Some things are not meant to be described

I wanted to write about the way your eyes seem to look through me whenever I am talking to you. I wanted to write about the way you talk and the way you laugh. I wanted to write about how nice it feels when you simply hold my hand. I wanted to write about you and how you make me feel things I have never experienced.

I got my pen on my hand and the paper was already in front of me, waiting. I kept silent. My brain was working like a maniac, trying to find the most perfect word to describe you.

Fifteen minutes.

Thirty minutes.

One hour.

The paper was still blank. My brain couldn't find the word. And I realized no one had invented the word perfect enough to describe you. There's no adjective good enough to describe about what I feel.

I put my pen down and left the table. Maybe the greatest things in life are not supposed to be described.