Drowning Yet More Alive Than Ever

This is why no man should ever call me beautiful, why no one should even joke about it through the grapevine. Maybe once I stop fantasizing about it, overthinking it, You'll actually bring me to someone meaningful. I wonder if I had dated, had been called beautiful by my dates, my boyfriends, I'd stop overthinking the compliment. But then again, I've never been attractive enough to date. Many of the girls around me have, but I've usually been the comforter.

Which is fine, honestly. I realize that I do not have to be attractive outwardly because my life is not about that. The world might be about that, but I am not. I am allowed, however, to remind men and women alike of their beauty. And even if beauty has been called a feminine term, I feel it applies so deeply to men as well.

When I call a man beautiful, it is because I know his soul is pure and full of love and love is beautiful. I can't even describe it otherwise or explain what I mean by calling it beautiful. Beauty is pure, beyond skin, deep, permeating, soul enriching. You sink into its depths and come out alive, gulping air because you are joy, and thirst for life. You've tasted and you've seen and you can't come back because you'd rather choke on that richness than live meaninglessly - dead, for all intents and purposes.

I wish I had the words to describe myself tonight. I simply am not eloquent, even through my typing. Disappointing really.