Let Me Count the Ways...

More abysmal writing at this hour. But I need to make this post. This whole week I've needed to make these ridiculous entries. I just do, or I will go batshit crazy.

You're so smart. Intensely, insanely, inhumanly smart. You're observant and perceptive, bitter and caustic, jaded and cynical...but you smile. You're all of these things and you still smile. Which means that there remains something about this life that you find difficult to let go of. Which manages to make you at least slightly understandable to me. Who was I kidding? You truly are out of my league.

The more I get to know you, the prettier you become. I'll admit: your nose is too big, your lips can be fuller, and sometimes when you duck your head you make an accidental double-chin. But flaws are what make people. So, your nose gives you character. The sarcastic quips you mutter sound so much better coming from that tightly pursed mouth. And I happen to like my women curvy. And these are just the abnormalities. I would need to write a novel-length entry on the good attributes.

And finally (God forgive me), you're blunt. You're harsh and don't mince words. You can be a bitch. You tell me like it is. You make no excuses. You're the most self-aware person I've ever met, and now I get it. At the end of this rant post, it clicked.

I'm smitten with you because you inspire me to write, that much is true. But the more important part is: I'm smitten with you because you're everything I'm not, and therefore everything I want to be. Wish I could be.

I stare at your door every time I pass through Hadley 3 now. It's far too much, and yet not nearly enough.