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Somebody

The first time I saw her, I couldn't believe my eyes.

I was told nobody was perfect... She must be a nobody... which is funny because it only took one sight of her to know that she was somebody to me.

But the truth was, she was somebody to see for me and some body to see for others.

A smile on her face does not even need to present for me to love every word she speaks and exactly how she says it.

She's perfect at the least, from her head to her feet, and everything in between.

She's the reason why I see the flaws in other girls.

Girls can be beautiful, girls can be sexy, girls can be stunning, but no girl can be all three plus more except her.

I never talked to her because I had to choose every word carefully.

She only deserved a perfect conversation, no stuttering, no mumbling, no nervousness.

No flaws in a queen's day.

I wish I could let her go just so I can say I've had the opportunity to hold on to her.

I'm wishing with two open hands and two open arms hoping she'll come running to me, but how could she possibly run to me if she doesn't even know I exist?

How does a star become recognized in a universe?... it shines.

And how does a man shine for a woman? He doesn't. He makes the woman shine because it's all about her.

He gives her flowers, calls her beautiful, does whatever it takes for her to know that she has captured his attention, his heart, his soul, and his hopes that she'll one day capture his last name.

The day I saw her eyes shine was the day when I could finally call her mine.

Making her day made mine. It still does. It always will.

I get chills every morning when I open my eyes to see her lying with me.

I still get nervous trying to perfect my conversations with her.

I still remember when I never wanted to be caught staring at her so I only stared for a second, but I cherished that second.

Sometimes I'd spoil myself with two seconds.

I remember that if I wasn't thinking of her, then I wasn't thinking at all.

I remember... I was taught that no one is perfect... it makes sense.

Me and her together are one.

And no one is perfect... I may be the flawed half of us, but my flaws mean nothing whenever she's in my arms...

because she's somebody to me.