you are the angel that I couldn't kill.

every chance he gets he'll spend being in a state of contemplation. he wants to discover everything about everyone, about all the things in the world. he wants to feel things and pinpoint exactly what happens to make that reaction, he wants to stimulate all the good parts of everything for her as much as possible. he wants to make discoveries in every curve and every crevasse of her body. she doesn't even know what's happening.  he's trying to take all the pain with no help. he wants to absorb it all, feels like he deserves all the pain possible just to prove he's man enough to take it. somehow it's just what makes sense. in all the world there are few things he can say that about, few things with enough truth behind them that he can let go and just believe in.  all the effort he's put into understanding everything seems to be just a little bit useless. he'll never compare to the cis-men with the budgets to dress in a more dapper manner, who don't have to sneak around to be able to purchase clothing from the "men's" section and stores. he can't help but to have his heart sink every time he hears girls talk about the hot guys with the muscles and the facial hair and the testosterone coursing through their bodies naturally. it kills him a little to know that's what they're talking about and he'll never measure up to those standards.  <3 <3