Youth
It’s not usual for me to look into people’s eyes. As I have never really cared about others, I don’t usually remember their faces. I have been told many times that I should, at the very least for my own security, but time and time again, I have consciously tried and failed miserably.
You would understand how you stepping into my life overturned things. Whenever you step into the room, my gaze follows you naturally — the apple of my eye — bound by the laws of gravity. All the attention I used to focus on myself now traces the line you curved into being, inevitably, making me notice how light affects the color of your hair and, randomly, making me wonder why you choose to stretch your feet as soon as you take a seat, like a child — squeezing my heart — or where you heard the old songs that you know from the very first beat, or the moment you realized that you are amazing at what you do and what convinced you to pursue it. From observing you today, I learned that if one of your wishes comes true, even if people are already celebrating for you, you wouldn’t believe it until you have seen it for yourself. Fascinating.
Get maychelene’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
My thoughts begin to revolve around those that run through your mind — if, among the thousands, I belong in at least one.
They say if you feel too much, you wouldn’t really be able to think properly, but you cloud and clear my mind at the same time. It’s a bit strange, isn’t it? That one’s beliefs could easily be shaken, and one’s routine could swiftly be broken upon the realization of love. And how the world, which remains the same for everyone, suddenly becomes bigger, and seen, and relevant, because the one person who matters dances on it. And things begin to have meaning.
