You know, I don't remember!

I forget what he looks like. I keep forgetting what he looks like and it's a sign that I really like him. That's why I always find a way of getting pictures of those I crush on, because if I really like them, I will forget what they look like.

It sounds absurd, but it's so true.

I know he's 6', with wavy black hair and peircing blue eyes. I know he has a slim nose and very soft, kissable lips. I know just how sharp his gaze is when he looks up at me as he takes a bite out of his sandwich. I know he has a slim build that looks good in just jeans and a t-shirt. I know when he pulls away and smiles, it's only to me, and for his own self-satisfaction. I know when I'm tucking into my danish he watches as I slice it into lady-like mouthfuls. I know his eyes light up when I start talking about comics and graphic novels. I also know his body wants to kick its heels when I say I've seen his work... and actually paid to see it. I know he doubles over when something really tickles him, even when he's walking. I know how solid his slim frame feels when he pulls me close, how my hand fits his perfectly when I take it.

There are moments during the day when something will happen and I'll get a flash of one of his expressions and it all comes flooding back. I sit back and let myself bask in them because I've learnt that if I try too hard, they will never come back to me or they'll be distorted. But I'll hear something or smell his cologne and remember how he makes me smile. Or how I look up and I see a pair of beautiful blue eyes looking back at me. I just don't know how he does it... and I don't know why I let him either...

Damn, I like this one... oh well.