The first thing I noticed about you, when we were first introduced, was how perfectly parted your hair was. Even still, it’s the first thing I always notice when you walk in. I’ve never seen you with a hair out of place. Never frazzled, never wrinkled, never flustered. Even when I see that I’ve startled you, as I love to do, the moment of being taken aback only lasts a second before you smile at me, perfectly at ease again.
I envy your ease, the precise manner of your decided existence in this space is intoxicating.
Am I drawn to your crisp, clean lines because they so contrast the free form world where I live?
Am I attracted to the order, or just the temptation to destroy it?
It would give me such satisfaction to just once see you run your hand through your hair and watch the crisp, clean line be broken.
The devilish spirit in me is tempted. Who would you be without the lines that define you? How would you look? How would you look at me?
I want to see you look back at me and know that I brought the chaos to your order. And for at least a moment, I want you to smile.
We bring such interesting contrasts to the table. Despite my misgivings, despite our differences, I look forward to the trouble.
And the trouble you’ll give me.