He’s like Art. Terrible Art, But still, Art.
Sometimes, you find yourself watching someone from distance, fascinated by how they live and grow. He’s like art — terrible art, but still art. His life is messy and imperfect, yet there’s something about him that draws me in.
“Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos,” Stephen Sondheim once said. This fits him perfectly. There’s beauty in his clumsiness, in the way he stumbles through life. His flaws make him real and relatable, turning him into kind of human masterpiece.
Watching him face his fears and insecurities reminds me of a quote by Rainer Maria Rilke: “Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage.” Every time he overcomes a challenge, he shows a bit more of the brave person inside.
Love doesn’t have to be about control or forcing someone to change. “Love is not about possession. Love is about appreciation.” I appreciate watching him grow, supporting him silently from the sidelines. This kind of admiration feels pure and freeing. It’s a love that exists without demands, like a soft breeze that gently moves the leaves without changing their direction. True love doesn’t need to force itself into someone’s life.
By admiring him from afar, I connect with the idea that we’re all a bit like a terrible art. Our imperfections make us human. Through our struggles, we find common ground empathy.
There are moments when I want to reach out, to bridge the gap between us, but I hold back. I realize that sometimes, the best way to love someone is to give them the space to become who they are meant to be. It’s a patient kind of love, one that waits and watches without pressure. So in the gallery of life, I stand before this flawed but fascinating piece of art, not with judgement but with affection. Because art isn’t about perfection; it’s about the story it tells. And his story is one worth watching and loving.
In the end, he might stay a distant figure, inspiring me from afar. Or maybe, as he grows, our paths will cross. But no matter what, this love remains the same — a quiet appreciation for who he is, a recognition of his unique beauty.
Hi it’s me again , Cia!
Thank you for reading my work , if you have very good suggestions about my work, I’m willing to improve anything. Thank you byeeee!.
