Blog #7

{I need to stop thinking}

Dude, I love him so much. I'm unable to work because I am just to happy. I have paper after paper which is due soon and I can't help but attempt to type up a serious essay about the "the historical change in diagnostic criteria for psychotic disorders" or some other shit like that, and then start randomly laughing with a dumbass grin on my face from the thought I'm his now. Everyone attempts to explain the effects of these kinds of situations, but I've never heard one person describe accurately how surreal it is. 

He is the most breathtaking man I've ever laid my eyes on.

His eyes are ever-changing like the blue morpho, whose amazing color is even more astonishing once it changes to reveal its underlying fascinating hues. The smile in his eyes alone is enough to fill every hole of sadness punctured into my being from those whom hate me. His voice is the voice of candles burning, with each spark being electrifying enough that it possesses my mind with a relaxation one can only define as hypnotic. His touch is no less gentle than that of a feather gracing ones arm amongst the winds of a spine chilling hurricane. And yet, his spirit embodies the safety of an angel, and the passion of a soldier. The sword that is his tongue could not be possessed by better judgment. The love that is his words could not have been written by a better author. There is no safety comparable to that which he holds in his power, yet I am blessed enough by his heart that he choses to place such protection beside me. My heart does not beat without his. If he can not hear me, have I reason at all to speak to those who are not spoken to through prayer alone? If he could not see me I have no purpose for beauty. If he could not touch me I would not ever wish to hug another again. His arms are the stone, and I am the diamond. If he is the ring, I am the jewel. For he is the casing of my bullet, the web of my spider, and the fence of my garden. 

If I the oceans and he the clouds, the land would never again be prosperous. There is no part of me I wish him to let go of. There is no freedom I cannot find through him and he who guides him. If I were to never see the sun again in exchange to hear his voice, place in my arms a nail and hammer. The light from the skies will never compare to the brilliant radiance my God placed at the front of his mouth. For he is not the sun to my moon, but the heavens to my star.