He is a mystery, and yet I know him.
Looking into his eyes, there is a knee-weakening, intimidating window that will stare back at you..
This someone I know. A man does not intimidate me often, and this one, this one that I know, it’s not just in his eyes. My heart patters at the sight of his walk…not for appearance’s sake, but for what I see beneath that skin.
I see a confidence in his stride, not the cocky step that would otherwise turn me away in disapproval, but a head-strong confidence; he walks as though he knows himself…as though he knows he is not confined to the expectations of society. He walks as though he knows he is not easily shaken, and that intimidates me.
It is not an intimidation that scares me away…it’s one that excites.
I may not excite him the way he does me…he may never give me a second glance that speaks volumes…but he is appreciated through my eyes. And my one wish, a wish that I haven’t wished in ages, would be that one day, I would know him and be known by him. From one naked soul to the other.