That Thing

I see in him that thing. No one else can see it...they tell me that they can't. But it's there. It might be hidden behind all of those walls he's built up but I know it's there. I can see it when he looks at me. When he holds me. When he thinks of me. Everyone says that I deserve more...and maybe I do. But I want him. He is my "more". I see him and I love him. I see his ugliness and his mistakes and his fear. And those insecurities make me love him more. Because he contains some sort of glory that I can't really describe except to say that he is beautiful.