"You look sad."
He shook his head. “It’s not that,” he explained. He looked at his unlit cigarette, and then tossed it away. “I just don’t know how to comprehend this happiness.”
Have you ever met someone
And they’re so fucking perfect in every way.
And maybe they aren’t perfect to everybody, but to you they’re just absolutely amazing.
The way they laugh and smile and talk and think and look and just everything about them and everything they do just keeps amazing you.
"Not my type"
What the hell even is a ‘type’? A societally twisted, peer influenced individual who just happens to meet all the societally twisted, peer influenced standards that we’ve convinced ourselves is necessary to have? Fuck that.
Smile back, have some appreciation for yourself and a dose of confidence and hey, I wouldn’t care if you had black hair or a million freckles, we’ll talk.
I was foolish enough to think that I could breathe the same air as you. But how can one breathe the same air as the sun?