Midway through what was to be the making of a good conversation that night, I found myself focused on a certain guy that was diplomatically engaged in a conversation with my brother and me. The kind of helpless, complete, and fixated focus. Perhaps also in sudden self-strucking "what am I doing?!" conscience because my eyes quickly struggled to lay off when His Excellency was no longer talking.
There he sat; semi-formally dressed with a great, if not totally asphixiating God-given talent, ability of bringing value to a conversation effortlessly. His Excellency would talk, listen, and give his thoughts in perfect quantities in the most delicate way: a sort of maturity that is both young and powerful. Not to mention utterly delicious.
I began to admire His Excellency. And how admiration can be such an honest feeling! Especially when you know that your mother will like him.
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