Presence

 

He knows it. I know he does. I can sense his knowingness even from the distance between us.

We’re close. Virtually. But that doesn’t satisfy my craving for his presence. His beautiful being makes me so miserable yet all I ever think about is his skin.

If I could I would stare at the beauty of the arrangement of his features for eternity.The delicacy of his dainty little lashes, protecting those brown orbs with lids so hooded that it’s almost hypnotizing.

Though my palms always get sweaty and I can’t resist shuffling my feet when he appears, but all my eyes ever look for is his presence. I often feel my chest throbbing like I’m on the most exciting roller coaster ever, trying to sober down my tide-like feelings for him.

But I fail. I fail so miserably every time I try. It’s like my eyes only need HIS presence to make the rest of the things seem more sensible.

He knows it. I know he does. I can sense his knowingness even from the distance between us.

The sound of his voice has something extraordinary about it.Those perfect frequencies penetrate inside of me to send a shiver down my spine. He makes me so guilable, so prone to falling for him harder and what amazes me is that he probably never even realizes it.

The way he subtly pats my shoulder while he’s out of breath since I made him laugh out loud. Inbetwixt of our conversations he unconsiously drifts closer, close enough for me to smell his cologne, and in that moment I swear, I almost get choked because of the rush of emotions gathered in my throat.

I know I should hate him for making me so weak, but it’s funny how I feel just the opposite.

He made me fight with my own self, with my own thoughts. This made me realize how hard it is to counter your conscience. How hard it is to split internally. He made me strong.

He knows it. I know he does. I can sense his knowingness even from the distance between us.