Bestow my heart.

I was in class the other night and a student asked a question that didn't pertain to the topic. My teacher let him know that we would get to that question later on in the material. I looked over at the young man and saw him take his hand and snap his finger in a disappointed fashion and a part of me fell in love. Now I don't know this person's name and I doubt I ever will. But there was something about his aura that my soul knew.

Doesn't that sound strange? He was so awkward looking. I bet he's only twenty, roughly. His face was covered by facial hair and he had a ratty red t-shirt. But I think the most endearing quality was the thick bottle glasses. The last two sentences were written with complete sincerity, not my normal sarcastic tone. It was the above characteristics that struck my heart with a sense of familiarity.

Maybe it's that part of me that never felt cool enough. Who always felt like she had to be the funniest, the most outrageous, the most charming, because inside she was just a girl with facial hair and bottle glasses. Okay that last sentence was written with shades of my usual sarcasm, but you get my point. I became intrigued by him.

In our society we get to know people so often because they exude something we think we lack or they will put us in the "in" crowd. We're constantly striving to be attractive and surround ourselves with aesthetic beauty in hopes that we'll prove something to the world about what we look like. How many times have I passed judgement on someone without even speaking a word in their direction? You don't want to be too pretty, you'll become threatening and you don't want to be too plain, you'll be considered boring. You must align yourself to a certain set of standards that you will never actually figure out.

In the midst of all this internal confusion, this boy's gesture melted my heart. I looked at him as we were leaving class and I thought about who I am and where I come from. It was so lovely that one person who decided not to go with the restraints of conformity could make me feel like I belong.

If I find out that he's actually thirty, I will suggest he do something about that shaggy beard and put on a decent shirt.