opulence

"Don't use words too big for the subject. Don't say 'infinitely' when you mean 'very'; otherwise you'll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite."
C. S. Lewis

i had used big words all my life and lavished my tongue with the satisfaction of a well articulated phrase. and now, i had no words large enough to describe the opulent beauty of his eyes. they were downright ostentatious in a way that seemed self-imposed, though logic reminded me it was beyond his control. and yet he knew. somehow, he knew and i hated him for knowing it; even more for using it against me. but still, i loved him. i hated myself for loving him so much and i hated myself for thinking such ridiculous things. i hate myself now for writing that i was thinking such ridiculous things. and yet, i suddenly understood exaggeratingly romantic movies and books. perhaps they weren't exaggerated at all. if any one of those writers were feeling what i was feeling right then, their cliched ramblings were actually quite understated. the ultimate irony was that in loving him, i loved myself because he loved me and held me so dear that i couldn't help but love myself as an extension of my love for him. but i hated him for making me do that...