memories

classes

he would sit so plain, so simple; watching the board or talking to his friends or whispering below the teachers lectures. and it was weird that i watched him, sometimes. he didn't know who i was; i just thought he was beautiful. 

i remember one day he was laughing with his friends.. a true, genuine laugh.. and it was so, so calming. he did not care about his surroundings or what others had to say or think. and he was like a paradox - not that i knew that then, of course. he seemed so happy but he had so many unhappy thoughts racing around his head. but nobody knew of this. and i continued to watch him throughout classes, watch him smile and laugh and watch the way he acted. 

there's something weird about watching someone you don't know; not in a creepy way or stalker way, just in a way of admiration. because you learn their small habits and characteristics that you find beautiful and they may not even know it.

this is sounding so much creepier than intended; it's just my way of explaining the very first memories i had of noticing him for the first time and acknowledging his plain and simple beauty, not knowing that soon i would be apart of that beauty.