He used to blend in with the crowd;
just another tall lanky guy,
standing above the rest
with his messy dark hair
and bright blue eyes.
Now he’s the only one I see.
All the girls love him
but he only loves me.

He takes the lead in any situation and
enjoys being the clown of the crowd.
Easy to smile and faster to laugh,
he hides his pain with ease.

People go to him with their problems,
treating him like a Dr. Phil.
He helps every one of them
and confesses he doesn’t know what to do.
Unnecessarily, he thinks himself as Atlas
carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
I help him down from that pedestal,
reminding him to relax and
that it’s not his job to fix everything.
Athens wasn’t created in a rush.

When he’s not stressed about others,
he’s pretty carefree.
Writing short stories about dragons and such,
his words like chicken scratch against the page.
The corners of his mouth tuck into his cheeks
as he thinks about various plots and characters.
Back hunched over as he writes, with
two freckles by his ear acting as perfect eyes
for a poorly drawn smiley face.
Tossing his head back every time he laughs,
sometimes sounding like a beached whale.

He’s crazy and spontaneous,
taking my hand and spinning me around
in an empty parking lot with the music blaring.
I can never stay mad at him,
not with his puppy dog eyes and convincing kisses.
He’s my best friend and biggest inspiration.


I think he’s a dork,
the greatest dork of them all.
But he’s my dork.
And that’s all that matters.