Her

Those Butterflies

My Unheard Thoughts

That first time we talked.
I remember it clearly.
While scrolling on my phone, bored to death and looking for people to talk to, I found you.
A beautiful girl with a bright smile on her face.
The brightest I've ever seen.
Right in front of me on my screen.
Online, on some "find your social media buddy here" type of app.
Well, I'm glad I was that bored.
I added you, and it was an instant match.
We exchanged social media accounts and immediately hit it off.
I remember it clearly.
I was awkward, so I tried to loosen the conversation with jokes that were supposed to be funny.
Maybe it worked because you stuck around or maybe it was because you had already written me down in your agenda.

By the time we really started talking, I had already forgotten what you looked like, except for your smile.
I went purely off of your wonderfully bright and light personality.
So caring, yet so seemingly adventurous and careless.
A courageous girl, that was obvious.
There was no other way around it, I fell quite quickly for you.

When we talked, you gave me numerous hints.
From harmless flirts to being a little too interested in how I'm doing if you were supposed to be "just a friend."
And I never caught on to them.
How could a girl like you ever like me?
It was already clear to me that you are special.
One of a kind.
And when I saw your face for the first time in a long time, my whole world turned upside down.
Your character, intelligence, stubbornness, and strength alone made me fall like a rock, but your appearance...

Your beautiful chocolate brown hair flowing down your silky shoulders.
Those eyes.
Those hazel eyes.
Like a green forest during the spring slowly fading into the bluest skies a man has ever seen.
Those tiny specks that look just like stars. And the edges look like the borders to heaven itself.
Truly beautiful. Anyone could sink in those eyes, but I was fortunate enough to sink the deepest of them all.
Your fluffy cheeks made your face look perfect.

But that smile.
Your smile.
Yours in particular.
Something to die for.
The most perfect teeth, paired with dimples, the softest lips, and the kindest eyes to top it off.
A perfect smile.
No artist could replicate it.
No photographer could capture it perfectly.
Philosophical masterminds would question if the existence of perfection was always as apparent as it is in your smile.
You'd have to see it.
To witness it.
The gracefulness and purity of your smile.
Only then people would understand.

You called yourself out on your imperfections, but I did not care nor see those.
You are imperfectly perfect.
Your best aspects were better through my vision.
And that which you don't love, I adored even more.
I wish you'd see through my eyes.
Only then you'd see.

Your face stuck with me.
I never let go of that image in my mind ever since that time you showed me your face again.
But we abruptly stopped talking...