He Doesn't Know He Became My Poetry

There are some eyes you look at. And then there are eyes you surrender your attention to.

His are the second kind.

I don't know what he carries in them, but whenever I look at him, it feels like standing before an endless ocean knowing I could spend forever getting lost in it.

If I'm going to lose myself somewhere, let it be in his eyes.

They have something I cannot name. Something quiet, something that pulls without asking. I could look at them and forget what I was about to say, forget what I was worried about, forget for a moment that there is a whole world outside of him.

His eyes don't feel like an ocean.

They feel like an entire universe.

And his smile...

His smile is another kind of magic.

It arrives so effortlessly, and suddenly everything around him seems less important. It feels like the first ray of sunlight finding its way through curtains after a long night.

I could be carrying a hundred thoughts in my head, and then he smiles—

and somehow, silence.

For those few seconds, nothing else seems worthy of my attention.

His smile lights up even the darkest skies in my world, like moonlight finding its way through the night.

And his voice...

God, his voice.

Deep, steady, confident.

It doesn't simply sound beautiful to me; it feels like something my body recognizes. Like every atom in me becomes suddenly awake when I hear it.

There are voices you hear.

And then there are voices you feel.

His is the latter.

I have spent my entire life meeting people and feeling nothing remotely like this.

No man ever made me stop and wonder why simply looking at him could make my entire world feel different.

Until him.

And maybe I lost it there...

Because somewhere between his smile, his eyes, his voice, and all those tiny details I shouldn't have memorized—

my heart quietly gave up fighting.

I know he isn't a god.

I know he is human.

He has flaws. He has choices I may never agree with. He may not even be the person I should want.

But isn't that what makes this feeling so strange?

I don't worship perfection.

I simply look at him through eyes that have fallen too far.

And when you look at someone that way, even their smallest details begin to feel sacred.

His smile becomes sunrise.

His eyes become an ocean.

His voice becomes a song.

His face becomes a painting.

And his existence becomes poetry.

Maybe he will never know.

Maybe he will never understand why I look at him the way I do.

Maybe, to him, he is simply himself.

But to me...

for reasons I cannot explain,

he is the kind of beautiful that makes ordinary words feel insufficient.

I won't call this love.

Love is a strong word, and I don't know him deeply enough to give what I feel such a sacred name.

Maybe it's fascination. Maybe it's attachment. Maybe it's the kind of feeling that exists somewhere between admiration and longing.

But whatever it is, I know one thing—

I have never felt this way about anyone before.

He came into my life unexpectedly, and somehow, without even trying, he reminded me that my heart was still capable of feeling.

His presence made me realize that somewhere beneath all the heaviness, all the days when I thought I had forgotten how to feel—

there was still a part of me capable of wonder.

And perhaps that's the most beautiful thing he gave me without ever knowing he gave it.

The sad part?

He doesn't even know that somewhere in this world, someone is looking at him with this much admiration, carrying his smile like sunlight and his voice like a song she never wants to forget.