it took me a while to come to understand why his eyes seem to tell so many stories.

those eyes, god, those eyes; they're magnificent. a rare stormy grey that resemble steel a little more when the sun shines on them just right. i never believed in people expressing emotion through their eyes alone, but he can, and it's all i need to understand.

that's another rarity. i understand him, in every sense of the word. sure, i have some doubts, and i have a lot of questions, but there's a level of mutual understanding that's so natural yet at the same time so artificial, so contradicting, that it makes me want to cry.

he won't hear me, anyway; he never will. because he's permanently immune to my voice and even though i so desperately want him to hear me hum as we walk to school, how i want my words and not my actions to speak to him, he can't, they can't and i can't make him listen.

i still love him, though, and as our fingers lock together oh so perfectly and tears spill down my cheeks as i watch him suffer i love him, i love him, i love him, and he loves me and my endless monologue.