Truth be Told:
The way you look at me is how I always imagined you would.
My friends, assuredly unaware of the irony, all jokingly remark,
"It's a sign of the apocalypse."
But I've been thinking and maybe they're right,
this just might be the beginning of the end;
for my entire existence has been spent preparing to reflect light into those eyes
your eyes, yearning for the resultant ocular exclamation,
and now I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
The only thing I know for certain-
in this moment I get to seek answers to these existential questions
while basking in the radiant validation of my hopes
emanating from the warmth of your stare.
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