"You appear just like a dream to me. Just like kaleidoscope colors that cover me. All I need. Every breath that I breath. Don't you know you're beautiful?"
I stare down at the man on the screen of my phone. I watch as his long, brown curls, curls that I imagine running my fingers through, bounce around as he carelessly entertains thousands on stage. He has such an ease about him that I admire. His beauty is remarkably effortless and it shows with every move he makes, every word he speaks, and every angelic note he hits. I watch as each one of his dimples concave as a smile breaks across his face, highlighting his features perfectly.
His smile is contagious, it's bright and beautiful. His green eyes shine brighter while he is on stage- I imagine the stage to be his safe haven, like he is mine. He was born to captivate millions, it was written in his destiny that God had planned out for him long before he was the little blonde, curly haired boy who chased after his older sister.
As I watch him in awe I try to imagine what that little boy was like. Did he sleep with a teddy bear? Did he run to his mommy in the middle of the night when the storms got too loud and scary. Did his little chubby legs carry him as fast as they could down the hallway to his sister's room to protect him from the notorious monster that hides in every child's closet? How I wish I could go back in time and comfort the crying little boy who just heard the news that his mommy and daddy wouldn't be together anymore. That I could wipe his little chubby cheek and reassure him that one day the world would be his for the taking and he would be loved more than a God. But I can't, so I imagine him today.
I imagine what he thinks of before he falls asleep at night, because I think of him. Every night it's his face I see floating behind my lids before I fall into the realm of unconsciousness. His image doesn't stop there, it carries on into my dreams. Sometimes I dream I get the chance to meet him, but then sometimes I dream he is a regular small-town boy who never had aspirations to be a singer. Either way, my eyes always open and the dream always ends and I'm left with a cold, empty bed and the cold truth to bare throughout the day. The truth is I'll never meet him. I'll never be able to personally inhale the aroma of his Bleu de Chanel cologne while I wrap my arms around his slim waist and rest my head on his chest. My bed will always be cold because it'll never have the warmth of his body next to mine. My ears will never be blessed with the sound of his deep, accented voice rolling my name off his tongue. I'll never feel the familiarity of his immense hand on mine and how our fingers would lace together to make a perfect fit. I will never see him get lost in his journal, quickly scribbling down lyrics as they come to him. I'll never be able to hear his laugh and be the one to have caused him such a blissful moment of happiness. I'll never see his brows furrow because he has gotten frustrated at me, himself, someone or something, so I'll never be able to be the ones to kiss the creases away. I'll never be his hello or his goodbye, his good morning or his good night. It wasn't written in the stars for me.
I will be something though. I'll be the one who is in the crowd watching him I in mesmerization on stage. I'll be the one who thinks about him throughout the day and wonder if his day is treating him well. I'll be the one who will think of how different a moment would be if he was right there by my side experiencing it with me. I'll be the one who gets told I'm obsessed with him with I just love him with my entirety. I'll be the one with tears running down my face but think of him and hope he isn't experiencing heartache and sadness like I am. He will be the one I laugh at and lust over. He will be the one that I spend hundreds of dollars just to see, even if I'm just another faceless person in the crowd. I will be the one who loves him from a far while he loves someone he holds in his arms. I am the one who will love a man who loves another woman while always caring the hope that with time my love for him falters so I find it in me to love someone else.
He will be the one who will always put others first because that's just who he is. He will be the one who captures the hearts of millions while only one will capture his. He will be the one who travels the world so freely while other struggle to travel to see him. He will be the one who always turns the other cheek when done wrong. He will be the one who never knows just how beautiful he actually his, inside and out. He will be the one I always love unrequitedly. He will be the one I turn to when I'm happy, mad, or sad. He will be Harry Styles while I'll be just another fan.
"Yeah, when my world is falling apart, when there's no light to break up the dark that's when I, I, I look at you. When the waves are flooding the shore and I can't find my way home anymore, that when I, I, I look at you."
