In your atmosphere.
I want to know you more, because knowing you has been one of the most beautiful things I have encountered. Because you’re different.
Every day I see people with scowl ridden faces and cloudy eyes and a two-dimensional disposition and wonder where the golden spark of spirit has fled. But not you. You still have that spark. Your strings are not broken and your mind is free.
You know how to swim upstream in a world that wants success over sensibility. You are not bound. You are more than paychecks and grades and the idea of living for the future and forgetting the present.
You don’t find the use in a hard edge or knowing all the answers. You are not narcissistic, nor egotistic nor vainglorious. You are so much more than straight edges and easy answers. Rather than skimming the surface, you take that plunge; you delve further.
You terrify me. Because meeting someone as honest and open as you means I can no longer be comfortable; I can no longer rely on small talk and easy answers and Sunday lunches. When placed in your eyes, I can no longer accept half-truths. I can’t settle. I can’t choose comfort over being content and that shocks me. Because you make me reassess my true worth: you won’t let me stop when there is so far to go.
And you are so wonderfully cryptic. You are both intensely complicated and equally so simple. I can never make assumptions, because you confound every expectation. Because every time I discover you more, I seem to know you less. You are so wildly and beautifully unpredictable and lovely, you cannot be labelled. You cannot be put in a box and kept in line with everyone else. You stand far apart.
You are intoxicating and sickening and wonderful and terrifying and careful and reckless.
I don’t understand you. But I want to know you.