Soooo.... i love Ian. He is the precise equation of the number of times my heart beats multiplied by my capacity to adore someone.
I've always been one of those people that are completely infatuated with the little mannerisms people have that make them perfectly and uniquely themselves.
Like i remember the way Jake use to always yawn when he got nervous. The scar he had near his left eye where he was hit with a plastic divider which two kids were pretending was a sword in the second grade. The way he always smelled like summer time. How sincere his laugh was. The way his smile always started at the very corner of his mouth.
T.J. and his tiny feet and deep-set eyes. The way he'd get this look of complete determination every time he sat down to eat, as if he was telepathetically communicating to his food, "Food, i'm fucking going to eat you!!!" The way he'd always find something to rub his thumb against because of childhood habits his parents wanted him to break. How he always talked too much. The way he spaztically rubbed his hands together when he got excited, like he was trying to start a fire out of pure happiness and anticipation.
I miss all those little things the most. Things like that always end up sewing little threads inside my chest and then attach themselves to that person. So i get dragged around and sick to my stomach in the end.
But now i have Ian. With his sneezes that always travel in pairs. His bizarre vocabulary and veiny arms. The shit that comes out of his mouth that makes me take a step back and say in the most sincere way possible, "what... the.. fuck.." and then burst into laughter. The way his feet always rub against eachother or wiggle around "They're having a party and the rest of my bodies not invited. don't hate." His perfectly shaped mouth and the way he tucks his upper lip into his bottom one whenever he's consentrating on something. His soft-boy sincerity tangle up in his pissed-off hoodlum-like tendencies.
Those are things i don't ever wanna have to miss.
I've always been one of those people that are completely infatuated with the little mannerisms people have that make them perfectly and uniquely themselves.
Like i remember the way Jake use to always yawn when he got nervous. The scar he had near his left eye where he was hit with a plastic divider which two kids were pretending was a sword in the second grade. The way he always smelled like summer time. How sincere his laugh was. The way his smile always started at the very corner of his mouth.
T.J. and his tiny feet and deep-set eyes. The way he'd get this look of complete determination every time he sat down to eat, as if he was telepathetically communicating to his food, "Food, i'm fucking going to eat you!!!" The way he'd always find something to rub his thumb against because of childhood habits his parents wanted him to break. How he always talked too much. The way he spaztically rubbed his hands together when he got excited, like he was trying to start a fire out of pure happiness and anticipation.
I miss all those little things the most. Things like that always end up sewing little threads inside my chest and then attach themselves to that person. So i get dragged around and sick to my stomach in the end.
But now i have Ian. With his sneezes that always travel in pairs. His bizarre vocabulary and veiny arms. The shit that comes out of his mouth that makes me take a step back and say in the most sincere way possible, "what... the.. fuck.." and then burst into laughter. The way his feet always rub against eachother or wiggle around "They're having a party and the rest of my bodies not invited. don't hate." His perfectly shaped mouth and the way he tucks his upper lip into his bottom one whenever he's consentrating on something. His soft-boy sincerity tangle up in his pissed-off hoodlum-like tendencies.
Those are things i don't ever wanna have to miss.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
dksavior02:
how very descriptive, yet I cannot help but feel somewhat kindred... People always say the little things we remember, so I guess that's probably true... or maybe they just seemed little at the time...
timeoftheeclipse:
scooby doo, where are you?