Tell me about the odds and I’ll tell you about her eyes. Eyes you could get lost in, eyes that lock you in and freeze time when you look at them. Eyes that isolate moments and paralyze you until they decide to set you free.
Tell me about the odds and I’ll tell you about her smile. A smile that could brighten any day and strike you with bliss. A smile that keeps you young and honest, a smile that you would never want to chase away.
Tell me about the odds and I’ll tell you about her hair. Hair that I would know anywhere, in any crowd. Hair that flourishes in the slightest breeze, and hair that I pine to run my fingers through over and over.
Tell me about the odds and I’ll tell you about her heart. A heart that embraces youthful exuberance and has an abundance of love to give. A heart that needs as much love as it’s willing to give, but is cautious to roam freely. A heart that calls to me day and night, every second of every minute of every hour.
Tell me about the odds and I’ll tell you that I couldn’t care less. I couldn’t care less that the odds are we’ll never be together again. I couldn’t care less that she says she no longer loves me, because I will love her forever. I’ll be her anything but I just want to be hers.
So tell me about the odds and I’ll tell you that the odds were never and are never in my favor. Love doesn’t care about the odds.