I am Jason.
Writer. Blogger. Human.
It’s a marvelous thing, the ocean. For some reason when two people sit together looking out at it, they stop caring whether they talk or stay silent. You never get tired of watching it. And no matter how rough the waves get, you’re never bothered by the noise the water makes by the commotion of the surface - it never seems too loud, or too wild.
'Why is it,' he said, one time, at the subway entrance, ‘I feel I’ve known you so many years?’
‘Because I like you,’ she said, ‘and I don’t want anything from you.’
She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.
I don’t know what the thing is about hand holding that I find so beautiful. Maybe just the simplicity of it because intertwining fingers can say so much more than words can, or poems that try too hard.