Re: Infinity
Rating: 17+
Status: Ongoing
Summary: Puppy love, unrequited love, true love, romantic love, and everything in between. These are the thoughts that can make a person go crazy.
Status: Ongoing
Summary: Puppy love, unrequited love, true love, romantic love, and everything in between. These are the thoughts that can make a person go crazy.
Running Thoughts
What are you supposed to do when you catch someone's eyes?
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?”
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?”
When you change your mind
Decisions don't always have to be set in stone. Life is flexible enough for us to change our course and still be happy.
You don't believe in love, fairytales, or us,
Happy ending doesn't have to end with a kiss.
Marriage, a house, and kids were never on your list.
And yet when I met you, I knew that you had to be with me.
I see a future with us. House with a picket fence--
--It's white, of course--with a treehouse in the back.
A little me and a little you running around in the yard
Chasing a little golden retriever, it makes me wonder,
"Why aren't you seeing the same?"
So when you change your mind, so when you want to love
Pick me, because I'll be right here. In sickness and in health.
Pick me, because we would write a beautiful story.
Sincerely,
The one who wants to change your mind
You don't believe in love, fairytales, or us,
Happy ending doesn't have to end with a kiss.
Marriage, a house, and kids were never on your list.
And yet when I met you, I knew that you had to be with me.
I see a future with us. House with a picket fence--
--It's white, of course--with a treehouse in the back.
A little me and a little you running around in the yard
Chasing a little golden retriever, it makes me wonder,
"Why aren't you seeing the same?"
So when you change your mind, so when you want to love
Pick me, because I'll be right here. In sickness and in health.
Pick me, because we would write a beautiful story.
Sincerely,
The one who wants to change your mind
I'm not usually like this
It's that moment out of the norm that can change our lives forever.
My heart beats faster whenever you enter the room even if I could not see you. I stop listening to what they're saying to me and my eyes wander around the room, looking for you. You smile at your friends and exchange your pleasantries and when you finally notice me, you sent a calm smile my way that did nothing to calm my heart down. I force myself back into the conversation, forgetting what he had said and what she had asked me and even in the midst of my embarrassment, I still wonder: "What does he think of my hair?"
~*~
I don't know why I let it affect me so much.
The off-handed comment that made my heart fall and ask myself over and over again if it had been something that I said or something that I didn't say. To know that you were upset, that our conversation - as slowly as it had begun - has suddenly shut down because I had been too busy paying attention to the rhythm and soothing dips of your voice.
I wish we were close. So that you'd tell me what was wrong. So that you'd believe me when I said, "I would give my kingdom to see you smile for a day."
~*~
I don't know why my hair suddenly feels messier around you or how I suddenly have two left feet or how I suddenly didn't have a mouth. No amount of grooming could make me feel presentable and no matter how much attention I pay to the ground, I always seem to trip and embarrass myself. And the silence between us - oh god, the silence - what you must think of me, someone with whom you're trying to have an intelligent conversation, babbling like an idiot.
I hope you one day find out that I'm more eloquent than I seem and most certainly, I have more in my wardrobe than wrinkled t-shirts and ripped jeans. I brush my hair everyday and I have a right and left foot that keep me from falling while I walk. I'm a normal person, no matter what my friends say.
My heart beats faster whenever you enter the room even if I could not see you. I stop listening to what they're saying to me and my eyes wander around the room, looking for you. You smile at your friends and exchange your pleasantries and when you finally notice me, you sent a calm smile my way that did nothing to calm my heart down. I force myself back into the conversation, forgetting what he had said and what she had asked me and even in the midst of my embarrassment, I still wonder: "What does he think of my hair?"
~*~
I don't know why I let it affect me so much.
The off-handed comment that made my heart fall and ask myself over and over again if it had been something that I said or something that I didn't say. To know that you were upset, that our conversation - as slowly as it had begun - has suddenly shut down because I had been too busy paying attention to the rhythm and soothing dips of your voice.
I wish we were close. So that you'd tell me what was wrong. So that you'd believe me when I said, "I would give my kingdom to see you smile for a day."
~*~
I don't know why my hair suddenly feels messier around you or how I suddenly have two left feet or how I suddenly didn't have a mouth. No amount of grooming could make me feel presentable and no matter how much attention I pay to the ground, I always seem to trip and embarrass myself. And the silence between us - oh god, the silence - what you must think of me, someone with whom you're trying to have an intelligent conversation, babbling like an idiot.
I hope you one day find out that I'm more eloquent than I seem and most certainly, I have more in my wardrobe than wrinkled t-shirts and ripped jeans. I brush my hair everyday and I have a right and left foot that keep me from falling while I walk. I'm a normal person, no matter what my friends say.