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True love for a nerd (specifically a logophile)

True love for a nerd, specifically a logophile... is him not interrupting you while you read, just watching your face, and you, who could read through 7th period in all its rowdy noisiness, who wouldn't look up from the page to see the world end... feel his gaze, and you look up. And smile. And then look down again because, come on, you have to make sure the main character lives.

It's being able to flirt in an extended metaphor in such a way that I'd like to think is at least as poetic as "Oh what light through yonder window breaks."

It's laughing at how disgustingly cliched it all is and not caring.

It's discussing grammar and definitions and both of you are interested in the conversation. Or he pretends, and that's just as good.

It's a bed full of scraps of poetry and suddenly sitting up at midnight because his smile is like daybreak, like summer, and lovely and oh my god someone needs to put it into a poem; sleep  is a neccesary sacrifice!

It's letting the person you wrote a poem about actually read the poem you wrote about them.

It's being able to read poetry to someone that actually enjoys it for the beauty of words and not solely because it's horribly romantic... although it is.

It's playing word games, tossing rhymes back and forth until the volley is stopped short in the face of an argument over whether non-english words are permissible.

It's him suddenly saying... "We should read together."

It's him saying he wants me to correct his grammar. It's being accepted as a grammar nazi.

It's hearing intelligent thought come out of his mouth... I am an admitted sapiosexual, and damn, he makes intelligence sound hot.

It's like the unread book that you found on your shelf when you felt sure you'd read them all.

It's the story you'd thought you had predicted at the outset but that surprises you by being unconventional and utterly unexpected... it's almost frustrating... yet exciting.

It's the poem you didn't understand, and then you did.
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