You know.. when you want to do all but tell her that she is pretty or beautiful because it’s something typical.. she hears it a lot..
Instead you want to listen to her mind melt from her lips. Watch as her eyes get caught in the sunlight and turn a different shade.. the light reflecting onto the canals of your heart.. and it’s your heart that just began that humming sound because the sight of the colors that radiate around her are overwhelming.. because those colors don’t exist in the box of crayons that once showed you the rainbow and all it’s in betweens..
Not so typical.. I don’t want to tell her she is pretty or beautiful.. because it’s something typical.. she hears it a lot.. I’m not.. so typical..
To be present for the way she looks at the clouds. As if they are a part of her drifting by the heavens.. as if she doesn’t mind because those parts of her are meant to be shared with the universe.. and I was lucky enough to be there for it.
To see the way her hair dances with the breeze and tickles the backs of her knees.. and she will giggle.. and that will warm my heart.
I want her to know that I am there with her on every level because it is she that i see my fears in.. It is she who hits me with bricks so that I am no longer weak… and covers me in pedals when my aching heart needs mending.
Not so typical.. is the way she inspires me. And I can only hope, to inspire her.
As I’ve misplaced the rhythm to my writing, tonight…
The thoughts had summed up to this..
Empower yourself. Empower each other.
Sylvia Plath, Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams: Short Stories, Prose, and Diary Excerpts (via quotes-shape-us)