There’s something so peculiarly expressive about a person’s eyes. The way they droop, the way they get wide, fixed, shifty, flirty, how do eyes even convey romance? Still, they do. It’s what you don’t tell me about yourself. That’s what your eyes scream. They’re begging for a chance to be understood, they want you to be understood but you won’t let them. We mask ourselves, afraid to truly be who we are in front of the world. I wonder why. What are you afraid of?