You're beautiful, really. Your soul, your character, your thoughts, your voice and the words you speak. Just beautiful. Yet you refuse to be called beautiful, and instead prefer 'handsome' or 'strong'. You are, believe me you are, but why not beautiful, darling? Your soul is a kind one, and your thoughts are pure. Your voice is as soft as your skin and your words are intelligent, like mine. Is that vain? To say you are intelligent like me? Or is it an observation? So many questions, darling, so many internal debates.
I just want to call you beautiful, but society implies it to be taboo. Yet you are beautiful to me for everything that you are. I know that you don't believe it, but it's true.
I've stayed awake and counted the stars while contemplating how you are, how stereotypical is that? I've thought about all the secrets we've shared, is that slightly insane? I've wrote for hours about my thoughts, and 3am seems to be when inspiration drowns me.
They say I'm infatuated, and maybe it's true. I just love your soul, and your humour, and your kindness. Just everything about you.