Hear My Confession.

found via weheartit
Hey boy, listen up. This is not a tale I am about to tell and either this will be a story I am about to share. This is a confession—from a girl who knows nothing but to bury her ugly face in her thick books rather than to look up onto the sky. But now, dumping away my thick books and raise my head up to look at the bright sky, I am proud to confess that perhaps, in any way it may sound—I guess, I really like you.

I love every bit about you. Perhaps I like your scent that reminds me of chocolate, and maybe by some reason I love the way your hair curls into waves that reminds me of the ocean I like the most. I adore your sense of style despite your lack of brands, because even with a plain tee and jeans, in my eyes, you already look dashing as you could be. I like the way you speak—those words come out smoothly like a river flows. I love the way you stand straight or perhaps when you sit down and you clasp your hands together—your finger twining like a grip you will never let go. I like the way your thin but strong fingers hold onto something. I love the way you are able to serenade; the way you capture attention with your songs and your acoustic guitar.

More importantly, I love the way you smile and the way your cheeks develop those cute dimples. I like the way you pout when you are uncomfortable and the way you fan your self with your hand when it gets hot sometimes. I love the way you listen to your iPod as if you shut the whole world off and only listen to what matters the most to your ears—your music. By chance, maybe I am in love with the way you can’t dance but still, you will do whatever it takes to entertain me by doing random dancing, even when you know you will look horrible. I adore your confidence and your coolness—because it reminds me that you are a grown man.

I don’t need to stop here because I can continue to say that I love your appearance. You say you might have not stopped growing yet and we laugh about that because it may sound silly but still, somehow, I believe you. I like the way you speak random English every now and then to make me laugh and the way you treat everything that doesn’t matter like a play thing because you know how I look at life and want it to be a bit relaxing for me.

But this, my dear boy, might be the exact reason why I like you. I like the way you express your gratitude over this fate that bring us together. I look up to you because you can express your love and gratefulness continuously. And surely for me, the one thing that makes you the one boy that I truly like, is to know that even when could be sometimes a bit too far away from each other—I know I could always stop and turn around, and find you right behind me; like the one guardian I could lean on, every time.