This is a very short post, and very, very personal. I didn’t even think I would post it here, and honestly, I’m probably gonna regret it tomorrow morning, but right now, my impulse got better of me.
So read on, and I hope you enjoy. :)
I can’t Write about him.
I never could
I, to whom writing comes easier than breathing, am rendered speechless – wordless- when it comes to him, because somehow, somehow, I can’t write about him.
There are few things I could never write about, things I care about the most – my family being the biggest example.
I never wrote about my family, I never continued my blogs on Diana, and I never wrote about him.
It’s not the same thing, what I feel for him and what I feel for my family, not by a huge margin, but there is this similarity.
What I feel for either of them is too big for even my words to cover.
Somehow, I can’t describe him. I can’t describe the twinkle of his eyes (cliché, I know, but which part of this isn’t!), the curve of his smirk, his tall, gangly, body – almost awkward in its demeanor.
Maybe a better writer, a better person can.
But I… I can’t.
He’s too intricate a landscape, and I’m just learning stick figures.