To The Man Who Made Me Dream

Scott Webb

Where you came from and what made you who you are, I will never know. I was lost and empty and then you came along, you and those bright blue eyes. The most brilliant shade of blue I had ever seen; the kind of eyes that emit such warmth and honesty to melt a frozen heart, most of all mine. I was beginning to think men like you didn’t exist anymore.

Endlessly surrounded by men more concerned with their level of masculinity than comforting the women in their lives. No drive or direction, no desire for any kind of commitment. Living it up with their boys and scanning women’s’ bodies like a bar code on a package of meat. Too afraid to care for another human being let alone express any type of true and honest emotion.

But here you are, with a thousand watt smile, courteous and kind to the bone. You told me to dance and smile as much as possible. You told me no one is past the point of no return; to keep putting one foot in front of the other and never look back. You told me I could to either see pain or I could see joy in everyday life, it was my choice. You choose your words to perfectly and speak them so eloquently and passionately.

You made me start to think, to see the light, to believe, to dream again. Ideas have exploded in my mind of the person I could be, the possibilities out there for me to be anyone or anything if only I dreamed a little harder.

Why did it take me so long to find you, to hear the way you talk about life and love? Why have I never heard another man say out loud that the woman you love is a priority? Why have I never met a man that feels comfortable and unashamed in openly expressing how he feels and what his heart wants?

You’ve made me feel so much, yet I have never actually met you or seen you in person. I don’t know you personally and you don’t know me. Maybe you say all these things because you are just a dream, an intangible, yet so real it hurts. You burned a light into me the moment I saw those bright blue eyes, and I will keep living and breathing the ideals you once told to me.

And maybe, just maybe, one day, our lives will cross, our eyes will meet and all of this will make so much sense.  Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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