I thought I knew what it was to have a gaze set into my eyes, I’ve felt the hours pass as days while I lost myself in another galaxy of stars so far from my home.
The way his blanched sea green eyes penetrate and I have to look away - embarrassed.
As if I were naked and he was analyzing every bump and curve beneath my film of skin.
I raise my head and he is still looking into my eyes and searching for my soul, determined and adamant that he will decipher every column and etching I had worked so hard to carve into its monumental status.
He looked into my eyes like a stranger, and suddenly I am reminded of you.
Not a thief, preparing to run loose with my essence…
And suddenly I knew that it was wrong.
Suddenly, I am craving this feeling, where I’m consumed by knowing that you aren’t hurting me, you aren’t connecting the pieces, you aren’t studying.
You’re not even trying.
You aren’t pinpointing lasers of questionable looks that burn passed my walls.
I don’t feel the flames licking me, the bricks tumbling, the gate lock shattering.
You look into my eyes like you knew me before even I did.
Like watching my reflection in you was a grand introduction.
“Hello, this is also You - I thought you might want to meet because I think you’re everything I want and need and everything I’ll always be.”
But you’re gone, and I don’t remember the colour of your eyes anymore.
“Every part of my body felt electric. My chest ached and my head throbbed with the great terrible limitless possibility of the morning, and when it came, the sky was washed white, everything was new, and I hadn’t slept at all.”—Dave Eggers