I Stayed Behind

Sixteen

the exception | 23.8.20

he's a one-arm hugger
except when he's hugging me.
then he's a bear hugger,
a 'both arms tight around my body' hugger,
a 'holds me like the world's ending and I'm the one thing he wants to protect' hugger.

and he's not a small-talker,
except when he's talking to me.
then he's a non-stop talker.
then he's telling me about his day, about his theories on religion and what he desires.

he's even a bit of a stone-faced listener;
except when he's listening to me.
then his eyes are fixed and curios,
he's dramatic and plays along in my stories
and laughs at all the best bits.

he's not much of an entertainer, he gets a little shy,
he's not one to show off, and he'd rather keep to himself,
but to me he's open and amazing and I couldn't wish for anyone better:

he's charming and loyal,
sweet and kind,
he talks and he listens 
and he makes me feel worthy.

now, I'm not much of a romantic,
except, of course, when he's next to me,
then I'm an old-school romantic,
a believer in fate and destiny.

I'm not one for big bear hugs or deep conversations, either,
and I'm not sold on the whole 'soulmate' thing
but there's a big exception to the universe,
and that exception is him and me.