Your eyes are not pretty.
To say your eyes are simply “pretty” would be such an understatement, that it would border on an insult.
Let me explain what your eyes do to me. They have this way of slightly changing their hue in direct sunlight that knocks me out.
When I see your pupils dilate in my direction, it restricts my ability to breathe for exactly 1.32 seconds. Can’t you see how looking into your eyes affects the production of blood flow in my internal organs?
You will ask me why I am staring at you, and I will say nothing.
I will be unable to articulate the effect your eyes have on me. I will be too awestruck to say, “looking into your eyes causes my brain to signal the release of so much dopamine through my system, that I can’t stop the idiotic goofy half smile on my face.”
Your eyes have the ability to startle people, and shake them to their core.
Your eyes are not just pretty or beautiful; they are transcendent.
I’m being honest.
I was in the middle of thousands of thoughts. Will just one more nonfat caramel macchiato really effect my insulin levels, and spiral me into type 2 diabetes like my mother claims? How will a reported one percentage point drop in China’s economic growth affect the annual state of the United States economy?
But, then I saw you. Your eyes silenced all of that.
Everything that exists in the world becomes a radio channel of static silence at the sight of your eyes.
Do you see how easy it is to love the color of your eyes? They are just organs that detect light and convert it into electro-chemical impulses, yet someone can love you only for the blue, hazel, chestnut, or midnight brown hues in those eyes of yours.
This is terrifying, and not real. Run! Run far away. You are worth more than this. You are worth more than being reduced to a physical being.
Listen to me! I am screaming you this warning.
Choose the one who loves the chaos in your soul, not the color of your eyes, or the contours of your body. The tanned skin you take pride in is going to wrinkle. You might even have cataracts develop in cerulean tones. Age will come to claim you. Regardless of the botox, pilates, yoga, or the miles you run. A personal trainer cannot help you. Not even the finest plastic surgeon can.
I’m not telling you that your beauty is fleeting to startle you. I simply want to ask you one thing. When the day comes that you lose your youth, will you also lose the affection that was once in your lover’s tone?
Will he become bitter with the flesh you were so careful to keep intact? Will he start eyeing girls half his age? Will he slip them his number with the same sly smile he gave you only yesterday?
Choose the one who loves the chaos in your soul, not just the color of your eyes.
For he is the eternally loyal lover. Even in the next life, he is the one who will never stray.