Friday, 10-24-14
I'd never think I'd find myself writing a whole journal entry about his eyes. This is what I think as I read over this. But I'd never thought I'd find myself doing a lot of things.
I feel bad.
I had always talked down about his eyes on here. They aren't bad, trust me. In fact they're gorgeous. His eyes are pretty and yes, I've wanted to throw glass shards straight in his pupils, just to see if he'd say something. Probably not, he'd be busy crying out in pain. Not crying, because that'd burn worse.
I can't tell why I let them stare into me so much. Let them judge me till I want to punch him right in the face and cry.
In all honesty, as much as I'd hate to admit it, he has puppy dog eyes. They're wide and curious, sparkling and shining in the light showing off all their glory. They're fucking adorable. I know he doesn't know, but fuck. As someone who has counted how many lashes he has, you can never get bored of his eyes. No matter the aspect of them. Whether it be the way they twinkle when distracted, how his eyelashes tangle with one another because they're that long. I've never been so fascinated with them, but now that I think about it they're almost like gems, and that shouldn't make my heart as warm as it does.
Even if they stare at me all the time, from 3 AM till whenever the sun decides to rise again, even with how much I've seen them, I know he's thinking about something. That totally freaks me out.
Or maybe it interests me.
So what?
