Re: Infinity
Running Thoughts
When he looks at me, I always have to wonder: “What is he thinking about?”
Perhaps there is something on my nose or a hair is out of place. He is, after all, very meticulous with every detail pertaining to a person’s appearance. Maybe there is a wrinkle on my shirt or my glasses are crooked. Many will want to describe the way he looks at me as piercing, as though those brown orbs are burning into my very soul, but then, being the recipient of said look, it is sometimes hard to place an accurate description.
I squirm under his gaze, unsure if I should simply smile or ask him what he is thinking about. Yet I know that if I asked, he will simply tell me what I already know. There is a mix of everything, I think. At different times, those things change.
Like when he first jokingly proposed to me after our one month anniversary and I had said no because we were not together long enough. With a stubborn pout, he tilted his chin and responded that love is not always quantified by time spent together. For the next week, his eyes would be shadowed, haunted by rejection and angered at our differences. He must have been wondering about why I had refused him. Did I not love him as much as he did me? Did I, perhaps, not want to spend forever with him? Maybe, he might have dared to breach the thought, we weren’t such a good fit after all?
Sometimes when he looks at me, I wonder if he is seeing me at all. Perhaps he is staring at the past me, a girl residing in her own world and not really noticing that anyone else, much less him, was actually paying attention to her. Perhaps he is trying to see the future me, a woman who may or may not be the one to spend forever with him.
Most of the time, when he looks at me, I reach out to hold his hand and flash him a smile. He would blink and ask, “What are you thinking about?”
Perhaps there is something on my nose or a hair is out of place. He is, after all, very meticulous with every detail pertaining to a person’s appearance. Maybe there is a wrinkle on my shirt or my glasses are crooked. Many will want to describe the way he looks at me as piercing, as though those brown orbs are burning into my very soul, but then, being the recipient of said look, it is sometimes hard to place an accurate description.
I squirm under his gaze, unsure if I should simply smile or ask him what he is thinking about. Yet I know that if I asked, he will simply tell me what I already know. There is a mix of everything, I think. At different times, those things change.
Like when he first jokingly proposed to me after our one month anniversary and I had said no because we were not together long enough. With a stubborn pout, he tilted his chin and responded that love is not always quantified by time spent together. For the next week, his eyes would be shadowed, haunted by rejection and angered at our differences. He must have been wondering about why I had refused him. Did I not love him as much as he did me? Did I, perhaps, not want to spend forever with him? Maybe, he might have dared to breach the thought, we weren’t such a good fit after all?
Sometimes when he looks at me, I wonder if he is seeing me at all. Perhaps he is staring at the past me, a girl residing in her own world and not really noticing that anyone else, much less him, was actually paying attention to her. Perhaps he is trying to see the future me, a woman who may or may not be the one to spend forever with him.
Most of the time, when he looks at me, I reach out to hold his hand and flash him a smile. He would blink and ask, “What are you thinking about?”
♠ ♠ ♠
I know it doesn't make sense... but I mean, I think you all know what I'm talking about. Maybe it's that cute guy or that not-so-cute guy, what in the world must be running through their head when they are looking at you? I'm not talking about a passing glance, but the full on I'll-wait-for-you-to-acknowledge-that-you-know-I'm-staring-you-down look.Alright, it's 3:47 AM right now in Texas and well... I'm awake. I had to do something to get the energy out of my system. It's sad when I have school in a couple of hours and my inspiration juices are finally running.
Too bad Spring break is over... well, I hope you enjoyed it.