i notice a lot. its always been a blessing and a curse. so when i met him, naturally, i started to pick up on his nuances and habits.

it always starts off broad. like how melancholy sets into his features when hes left alone. or how he watches my fingers as i fix the bandaids and tape on his fingers. or how he jumps the clock goes off in a half empty gym. or how constellations dash across his eyes when he talks about his most recent art project. or how his legs cross up into his chair in history because or how comfortable he is, or when they come up to his chest because he’s uncomfortable. i notice how he keeps hair ties on his wrist because he tends to mess with his hair a lot. and i notice how his eyes roll and bat when he feels the slightest bit of hypocrisy near him. i notice how french seems to slide off his tongue in the prettiest symphony. or how his knuckles audibly hit the glazed floor of the court before he plays.

but sometimes its much more specific. i notice how his eyes fill with admiration when i go on my breathless tangents about everything and anything. or how he sends me music he thinks i would like. or how he gives me his full attention when we talk. and how no matter what, he’d let me do almost anything to his hair. or even how he lays his cheek against my thigh when we sit on the floor of some random high schools gym. i notice how open he is to share his art with me. and how his arms wrap around my neck or my torso when he hugs me. i notice how his face flips in worry when he senses i’m panicky. i notice how much he cares. or how he asks me “why” when i softly apologize for tugging on the brush getting caught in the ends of his hair.

then it gets to material. i notice how his eyes are that pretty captivating blue but they have a hazel halo around the inside. i notice how big and soft his hair gets whenever he lets me brush it out. or how his sleeves fold when he pushes them up. or how his back tenses and relaxes when my hands feel for the knots he has from his hours of playing volleyball. or how his hands feel soft around mine, but they feel like they’ve also done a lot of work.

all these little things make up natalie; make up nat. but theres one thing that i noticed from afar.

i notice how his soul is comprised of the sweetest intentions and the purest manifestations.