Saleh

Being influenced comes easy. Even now. Vices, even vices drive me nuts. They addict me. To almost a point of no return. That point of no return, where onward I begin to worship, believe in, and love, without reason. Such love, attraction and intoxication is an uncertainty pertaining to my grand scheme of plans, shouldn't deny. And vices and the like apart, you are a man.

You could be a dream. And I could love you only for the assumptions I have of you. Without any considerations. You look alright to me. Good rather. And I love your smile. God, I adore your smile. I adore it so much that it makes my inner being beam. In the few seconds your face flexes into a smile, it's like each and every bit of you is happy. Oozing with joy. In those few seconds, I wonder how could anyone, ever impersonate such honest an emotion. Your smile is so pure, it makes me want to tell you how I feel about it. Like I said, it drives me crazy. But in a good way though.

And I should be shameless to feel anything like this about anyone. Now. After everything. It's almost ridiculous. And I wish I could get help. You could be a dream after all. And not the person of my future. Not the man I see behind the face, the gentle humility. And all that. But seriously, you're like a delicious slice of chocolate eclair. I find you too sweet to swallow because I am already floored the moment you touch the tip of my tongue.

It couldn't be the naughty teenage infatuation. It shouldn't be. Because that would mean I have regressed. Or I haven't evolved. At all. But I wonder if we ever do. I still feel like that butterfly-in-my-stomach seventeen year old. In the few seconds, I just stand here and admire you. God, that smile.

Saleh. Saleh. Saleh.