my ejj
I wish more people could see him the way I do, and I don't just mean gorgeous blue eyes and dirty blond hair. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to just shake someone and tell them to open their eyes and look closer. Really look at him. Listen to what he has to say. I think a lot of people would be surprised by what they might find. There's so much more to him than most people know, and sometimes it makes me a little sad that he doesn't let very many people really see him, but that's what happens when you've been burned one too many times. He's doing what he can to protect himself as much as possible. I can't say I really blame him at all.
He isn't perfect. He's never claimed to be, and he will be the first person to admit that he's far from it. But perfection is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? I can look at him and add up all of the flaws, the scars, quirks and emotions and features and see something perfect for me. I know better than anyone that he has made some mistakes. Who hasn't? That's what people do - we live and love and fuck up and learn from it and move on. It's what shows that we're alive, that we're all human, that we're all the same underneath it all. Forgiving him wasn't easy, and I don't think it should have been. He did everything he could to earn my trust back, and I could see how much it meant to him to work for it. He didn't want me to just give it to him, he sincerely wanted to prove that he deserved it, that he wouldn't be careless with it again and throw it away. He's proved it to me over and over again since then, and he has my trust and my heart again because he does deserve to have them. I wouldn't have given them back if he didn't.
I love him. I love how passionate he is, how focused and determined he can be. I love how he tries to sing and ends up laughing until he cries and how I'm right there next to him doing the same thing. I love how devoted he is to his friends and family and how willing he has been to share them with me. I love how he does everything he can to make me feel special. I love the notes and the candles and the soft music and the glint in his eyes because he's proud of what he's put together. I love how he makes a new map of my skin every time he traces over it, how I can tell he's memorizing every little detail. I love how he can make a silent room the most comfortable place in the world and the way he makes me feel like I'll never need anything else.
I knew love could be like this, but I didn't know it could be like this. The way it is with him. He looks at me and I'm breathless, he touches me and I'm on fire. He makes love to me like he wants to wrap around my soul, fucks me like he'll die if he doesn't, and I just know that I will if he ever stops. He makes me feel things I've never felt before, in ways I've never felt before. That's something he's done from the very beginning and it's something he keeps on doing every day.
He's funny and beautiful and artistic and sincere and real. He's crazy, silly, sensitive, loyal, dedicated, amazing, wonderful, mine. He's just... Eric. He's just Eric. That says more to me than all of these words ever could.
He isn't perfect. He's never claimed to be, and he will be the first person to admit that he's far from it. But perfection is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? I can look at him and add up all of the flaws, the scars, quirks and emotions and features and see something perfect for me. I know better than anyone that he has made some mistakes. Who hasn't? That's what people do - we live and love and fuck up and learn from it and move on. It's what shows that we're alive, that we're all human, that we're all the same underneath it all. Forgiving him wasn't easy, and I don't think it should have been. He did everything he could to earn my trust back, and I could see how much it meant to him to work for it. He didn't want me to just give it to him, he sincerely wanted to prove that he deserved it, that he wouldn't be careless with it again and throw it away. He's proved it to me over and over again since then, and he has my trust and my heart again because he does deserve to have them. I wouldn't have given them back if he didn't.
I love him. I love how passionate he is, how focused and determined he can be. I love how he tries to sing and ends up laughing until he cries and how I'm right there next to him doing the same thing. I love how devoted he is to his friends and family and how willing he has been to share them with me. I love how he does everything he can to make me feel special. I love the notes and the candles and the soft music and the glint in his eyes because he's proud of what he's put together. I love how he makes a new map of my skin every time he traces over it, how I can tell he's memorizing every little detail. I love how he can make a silent room the most comfortable place in the world and the way he makes me feel like I'll never need anything else.
I knew love could be like this, but I didn't know it could be like this. The way it is with him. He looks at me and I'm breathless, he touches me and I'm on fire. He makes love to me like he wants to wrap around my soul, fucks me like he'll die if he doesn't, and I just know that I will if he ever stops. He makes me feel things I've never felt before, in ways I've never felt before. That's something he's done from the very beginning and it's something he keeps on doing every day.
He's funny and beautiful and artistic and sincere and real. He's crazy, silly, sensitive, loyal, dedicated, amazing, wonderful, mine. He's just... Eric. He's just Eric. That says more to me than all of these words ever could.