She caught your eye from across the bar, or the coffee shop, or the classroom, or the science fiction section of your favorite hole-in-the-wall bookshop, and it’s as if that eye has lost all motor function, shamelessly fixated on the soft, suggestive curvature of her jawline. Her eyebrows speak tales of adventures lived, mistakes made, hearts broken, all through their arched expressiveness. And those eyes. Those eyes seemingly endowed with a beauty too flawless to be of this earth. Seriously, what’s going on right now, is she Kryptonian or something?
Romantics relish the opportunity to draw parallels between a particularly pretty pair of eyes and oceans where azure meets emerald to form a bonny mess of colorful ecstasy. And to those romantics, I say that’s great and all very flattering to whomever you might be addressing, you go, my dudes. But this girl’s eyes are incomparable in their beautiful elegance. Their ethereal in the seemingly impossible mix of lavender’s, greens, blues, and is that brown or hazelnut? But those are just colors.
What is it that has you utterly infatuated with those eyes? ‘It’s what they’ve seen.’ You can just see it in her eyes. You’ve heard that saying thrown around here and there, and you’re not too big a fan of it, but now you understand what all those fools meant. In those eyes, you see a woman who’s well-traveled. Who’s seen a lot in this world, but still knows she’s inexperienced in some ways. She’s awkward in just the right ways, she’ll stay up all night arguing with you about why Obama’s foreign policy isn’t really, well, a foreign policy at all, and then she’ll just as quickly take it back in exchange for not one, not two, but three slices of pepperoni pizza and you better throw some pineapple and crushed red pepper on those slices. She’s strong-willed, and when adversity presented itself just the other day as a matter of fact, she did what all modern-day society’s gladiators do: she chinned up, and she thrived.
This beautiful young woman may or may not be glancing at you every so often from across the aisle because a) she’s genuinely interested; b) she’s confused as to why you’re seemingly genuinely immobilized with a rapt gaze upon what would seem to be her figure; c) she’s looking to a friend and you happen to be in the way, you should move now; d) everything else that could be a possibility, but let’s not list them all out. You’re bewitched, on cloud nine, baffled, maddened, enthused, and enthralled to the point of ‘being’ where you’re left entirely vulnerable, and you’re struck with a rush of emotions you didn’t know could hit one person all at once. And if you’re being honest with yourself, it’s kind of astronomically awesome.
There’s not a thing you can do about the fact that you don’t know each other though, and it seems as if you’ll be left to staring with an audacious, hypnotized gaze pointed towards her direction dreaming of a life lived together that never was to begin with — unless you do something about it.
Go tell her she’s beautiful, maybe ease into it if that’s your style or maybe just be as straight-forward as you can be and tell her exactly what’s on your mind — “Miss, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I don’t care if that came across as creepy, unprecedented, alarming, derivative, or otherwise, because the fact of the matter is, you deserve to be told that as often as possible.” And who knows? She might be taken, she might be in a complicated situation where she doesn’t understand what’s going on with her significant other, she might hate all males on the planet, but there’s one thing you can rest assured of and that’s that she’ll appreciate the fact you told her she’s beautiful.
Because she damn well is.