I love him.


He is my typical guy- smart, funny, sweet, a tad geeky. You have to understand that I am smiling as I write this, as I think about him, and I probably won't stop anytime soon. Anyway, I really did not like him when we first met. I could have cared less for him. But, he started talking to me. And he didn't stop.

At first, he was asking for relationship advice about another girl. And then, it was my turn to ask what to do with a guy I liked. It went on like this for the better part of a year, until neither of us were in a relationship or liked somebody. We didn't know what to do. So, we talked.

And talked.

And talked.

Turns out, we were very good at talking. It was not uncommon for us to stay up all night making each other laugh or consoling each other after a stressful day. I would tell him countless corny jokes and he would play me his favorite symphonies. We would talk to each other about shows that the other didn't watch, but it didn't matter- as long as we were talking, we were happy.

And then finally one day I realized that somewhere along the line, I had fallen for him. It wasn't like I had all of a sudden dove into the “I Love You” pool. The feeling had slowly been building with every conversation, every smile, every laugh, every text message and every circumstance. It just wasn't there, in front of me. It had situated itself in the back corner of my brain, where “The remote is in the top drawer” and “The answer to the test question is B” like to hide. And then for some reason, it decided to come out, to be discovered.

I guess I'm not doing a very good job so far explaining why I love him, only how. He is the type of person that you normally wouldn't pair with a girl like me. People have layers. They have “themselves”, and then themselves- the latter being who they truly are. They are “themselves” in public, around strangers, to their parents, or to acquaintances.

For him, “he” is rather annoying. I am going to be honest. I have that privilege. He says the wrong things at the wrong times, and most often they are inappropriate. But, if you get past that layer, if you get past “him” and really start to know him, you will find a wonderful, sweet embodiment of him just waiting to be discovered and dusted off.

I know him very well. Not “him”, but him. But, he is someone who cares about what happens to those around him. He wants to fix what is wrong with the world. More importantly, he can see that things are wrong with this crazy world- that it needs fixing. He is far from oblivious. He asks me why people make the stupid mistake they do, and I have no answer. Because I don't know.

He is someone who wants to learn as much as he can. Science, music, math, English- it doesn't matter what, as long as he's learning. He constantly stays up all night doing work for school, for classes that he does not need to be taking. He takes them anyway, for fun. He plays two instruments, writes poetry, and plays baseball. He has a curious mind, and he satisfies it.

He is someone who is willing to do whatever you need, when you need it. He does it out of generosity but also the ample supply of love he has in his ginormous heart. Once, I heard scary noises coming from my backyard late at night, and he offered to bike over. I quickly told him not to; I didn't want him biking that late at night. He has spent numerous nights tutoring me at math when he should have been doing his own homework, just because I asked.

He is someone who is an expert at words. He knows how to put them together to form that one perfect sentence, that one perfect paragraph, that one one perfect conversation. He knows how to use them to make my heart skip that one simple simple beat. He knows how to use them to make my world spin in reverse each time he speaks. His words are who he is.

His words are my love.