He has the darkest blue eyes like the deep, deep sea where you know the water must be blue to some extent, but it's just too dark to see. They're like this deep, deep shade of sky blue, if that's even possible, but they look almost black. Almost. You have to look closely though to see it. I mean you have to REALLY look to see what I see. I see that he is beautiful -- inside and out. In the very farthest corner of his soul lies pain, but from that pain comes the most thourough understanding of human emotion. He's not just another playboy and he's not simple. He comes from somewhere -- a journey of sorts and I know he's been where I have and more. I know he has been broken for quite some time now and the wounds seem to just be healing if only people would stop picking at them. He loves truly and deeply, but carefully too. For I know he misses me as I miss him and I know he means it when he says it hurts him not to talk to me. Because I feel the same way. I know he is capable of loving me with every little bit of him if only he could fin the courage to trust. And I hope he trusts me. For I would love nothing more than to hear his story.