She is in all ways enchanting. You didn’t know what laughter sounded like until you heard hers. It’s so pure when it’s genuine. The way she will throw her head back and squeeze her eyes shut makes her into her own piece of artwork. She is like summer; always longed for but gone far too quickly. You get caught up in the moments spent with her and time seems to freeze, though it’s actually spinning. Once she is gone, you can’t help but long for the next time you will hold her eyes in yours. Like the summer sun, she can be burning, seething, scorching. Her glare can burn holes clean through your skin. It is never intentional, as all she wants is to spread light but at times, the light can be ultraviolet. You know she would never mean to burn you, though others may not. You know her for the pure, genuine soul she is so you stay by her side. You know you can be a sun at times, too. There are times she doesn’t see how much she is worth, how vital she is to life. You have to remind her how key it is to have to her in our solar system but each time, she doesn’t believe it. When she does, though, when she does realize how incredibly wonderful she is, these moments are the same as when the summer sun hits your skin for the first time after months of rain and frozen nights.
Him? Oh, he is a mystery. His eyes are some deep shade of cinnamon you can’t seem to explain. They look at you with such curiosity, care, worry, and genuinity. He is what they write novels out of and television shows based on. His glance is the subject of endless poetry. He is so aware of the world around him yet so unaware of the people in it. You can’t help but fall in love with him, with his eyes, his laughter, the way he says your name, the way he cares, his arms wrapped around your frame. You can’t help but always want his eyes on you. You can’t help but break a bit each time you realize they won’t ever be on you; you’re just another person. You are no different than the woman at the train station nor the girl at the coffee shop. Even though you know him inside out and you care about him far more deeply than you do yourself, you know his eyes will never look for yours. His eyes will always look for those that belong to her; the girl with the fire from her fingertips and the laugh of silk. His eyes will always look for the sun and you are simply the moon. You feel so used, so completely and utterly used when you realize all the words he ever said to you were from his script. The words he says to each, making them feel they mean something. You feel stupid for hoping the moon could ever hold someone as beautiful as him.
From the very beginning, you warned him. You told him you weren’t who he thought you were. You even had him read that damned book to try to get him to understand but to him? To him, you were the most fascinating, breathtaking heartbeat to have graced him. He was far too caught up in this image he created of you, this fictional character that he refused to see you. He was always far too in love with movies rather than the world around him. You didn’t want to fall for him because you knew he refused to see you for who you are, and because you knew it would end in flames. As it turns out, you were right. You fell for him so deeply and you didn’t think you had the capacity to love another individual that much. Somewhere along the line, he saw you. He saw that your eyes weren’t the same shade of golden green he painted them to be and your happiness was a facade he imagined. He stopped trying, then caring, and eventually, he stopped loving. Maybe it’s not that he stopped loving you. Maybe it’s not that he ever loved you, but rather the image he created. He watched that curtain fall to reveal you and while it fell, he stood up and walked away. You will never stop loving his laughter and the smile that came along with it. You will always miss the way his eyelashes fluttered on your cheek. You will always miss him, but he will never miss you. He will miss who he once thought of as you.
She’s like your little sister. You still remember the first time she hugged you and feeling so utterly accepted, so loved. She means as much to you as your own blood does. When you tell her how much you love her, you don’t think she will ever quite understand it. She is so effortlessly beautiful and at times, speaks wisdom beyond her few years. Her positivity radiates from her eyes into the room the way the sun’s light scatters the Earth. There is never a dull moment in time spent with her. Your cheeks will become sore from grinning but you simply can’t help it. She is light.
She is spring. From the way she bounces as she walks to her wide mouthed laughter, she is spring. Being with her is breathing fresh air. The air is filled with truth, citrus, inside jokes, and complete compassion. She is so compassionate that it seeps from her skin and onto others. When she is hurting, you want nothing more than you extract that pain from her and put it anywhere else, even inside yourself. She deserves so much more than the universe has shown her. You just wish she realized that.
He is the brother you have always wanted. Without question, you trust what he says and you know he means it. There is no feeling of apprehension or doubt, just pure comfort and adoration. He is autumn. He is the comfort of warm fireplaces and the feeling of home. His laughter is synonymous with contagious. Once he is here, you ever want him to leave. The days blend into each other and everything is beautiful. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure you are okay, to make sure you know your worth. Being with him makes you want to escape your small town and travel the world with your closest friends. Seeing the world through his eyes is breathtaking, it’s new. He trusts you and knowing that, you feel safer than you have in a long time. You know he would do anything for you, just as you would for him. That is a new feeling for you, yet he makes it seem so natural.
Porcelain Prose 