I just saw the most beautiful man.
I wasn't attracted to him, there was something completely unreachable about his face, like if I were to touch him his porcelain skin would fall into a million pieces and the world would hate me for being so selfish and lusty. I can't lie to you and say the sun hit him just right, or he shone like a star, he was in a shadow, but still made me feel like a goblin. He was probably Apollo himself.
He had the most perfect blonde hair and I don't recall his eye colors so my head keep re-imagining what they could possibly be, changing between violet and blue and purple and gray, but nothing as striking as a deep brown. Who the hell gave him permission to have eyes like those?
I looked at him once, then, stunned, looked twice, and he caught my eye. My gasp was probably audible. I was so fucking embarrassed in reality, and knew that I'm sneakier than that and slicker than that and I should have sat down across the walk way so I could stare longer, maybe draw a picture.
In my head he got up, asked me my name, and suddenly like a flash I imagined an insane life together, going to Rome then Asia then children and then where age took both of our breaths away and he loved me forever and ever even after neither of us could see each others faces but could still imagine the day we met and promised until death do we part...
But alas, like the little asshole I am, I feigned uninterest, looked over my shoulder as though he didn't mean a damn thing, as though he was just as much as the piece of shit men that usually approached me and didn't possibly give me an epiphany of a better life, raised my eyebrow like a bitch, and walked away listening to Pretty Odd by Panic! At the Disco as if the day was perfect and continued marching on in my combat boots as if my hipster facade made me better than everyone else.
