Reese

I look to him and I wonder how someone could carry the most beautiful color in their eyes; the green hues sometimes appear transparent or forest green, depending on the light. In the latter, I can see the yellow that dances amongst his grassland, like tulips blossoming in the springtime. It fills me with euphoria. I grab his hand, too choked up to say a word, or possibly just too awestruck to construct a complete sentence to present to him. He runs his thumb along the back of mine, and his fingers are rough, but they feel smooth running across my beige shell. He comforts me. He is so warm. 
I always envision us somewhere desolate, like a beach in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fruit and warm sand. I'm always playing the ukulele, and he's always looking at the ocean, just listening to me play. It's quiet minus my singing, and I'm wearing a blue swimsuit with a towel on my shoulders. He's always wearing red swim shorts and no shirt. His hair is a mess, his posture hunched with his elbows resting on his knees. We are content. I believe this to be my happy place.
When he comes to me after a day of not seeing each other, the excitement I feel could match up to 20 kids in a nearby playground. He makes me feel like a little girl excited to see her crush at recess. We always awkwardly speed walk to each other, collide into a hug, then a kiss, then we are on our way. It's one of the many things I look forward to now. He elates me, for each morning I'm actually finding myself excited to wake up and take on the day before me.
He likes cheap blueberry muffins and Doritos. He's so unhealthy. His favorite soda is mountain dew and I don't think he could survive without coffee in the morning. I love to buy him coffee. I like to think how it warms his insides, swimming down his throat and intestines, eventually heating up his belly, the warmth flowing through him like the warmth flows through me with his glance. He's my morning coffee.
He has this ripped up jacket that he wears that I absolutely adore, for some reason it shows imperfection amongst his character and that soothes me. I am not perfect. I don't think I ever could be, and that worries me. He reassures me constantly and I am forever grateful for someone so patient and understanding. I've never felt such genuine care from someone I've opened myself up to.
His hair is always changing colors. I like to mess with him and compare him to a character named Ramona Flowers. I love that he expresses himself through something small like hair dye. He plays guitar and bass so well, he's always so pleased when he's able to play songs. I think it's the most adorable thing in the world, its so refreshing to know someone with such an intense passion for art.