So, I met this guy, right? Total Pisces. Dreamy, a bit quiet, seemed like he was always off in his own head somewhere. And of course, I started wondering, is this dude actually into me, or is he just being, you know, a Pisces? It wasn’t like with other guys where it’s all obvious stuff, the direct eye contact, the loud laughs, the asking you out right away. This was different, and it had me really scratching my head for a while.
I remember just watching him sometimes. He’d be in a group, and he’d just kind of drift off. Then, I’d catch his eye, and he’d give this really soft, almost shy smile. That was one of the first things that got me thinking. It wasn’t a big, flashy grin, just a little crinkle around his eyes, and a slight lift of the corner of his mouth. It felt… personal, somehow. Like it was just for me, even when others were around. I tucked that away in my mental notebook.
Then there was the talking bit. Getting him to open up was a whole other level. He wasn’t one to just blurt out his feelings or his day. I’d ask him something simple like, “How was your week?” and I’d get a “Fine” or “Busy.” But if I actually took the time, slowed down, and really listened, he’d start. He’d get into these long, rambling stories about a dream he had, or some weird thought that popped into his head. It was never about practical stuff, always about feelings, or metaphors, or something completely out there. I started realizing that when he did that, when he actually shared those inner world bits with me, that was a huge deal for him. It was like he was inviting me into his private ocean.
He started popping up in places I was, too, often “by coincidence.” I’d be at my usual coffee shop, and there he’d be, a few minutes later, grabbing his own cup. He wouldn’t make a big deal of it, just a casual “Hey,” and then maybe he’d ask if he could join me, always polite, always a bit hesitant. It felt like he was testing the waters, seeing if I’d welcome him. And when I did, he’d just sit there, sometimes not saying much, but just being present. His presence, for him, felt like an act of intimacy.
One time, I was having a really rough day. Nothing major, just one of those days where everything felt heavy. I didn’t even say anything specific to him, just posted something vague on social media about feeling low. A few hours later, my doorbell rang. It was him, holding a paper bag with a really specific kind of herbal tea he knew I liked, and a couple of my favorite chocolates. He just said, “Saw your post. Thought you might need a pick-me-up.” No big speech, no asking what was wrong, just that quiet, thoughtful gesture. That knocked me sideways. He picked up on my subtle cues, way before I ever said anything directly.
He also started asking me about my dreams. Not just my goals, but my actual sleep dreams. He’d listen so intently, asking me what I thought they meant, sharing his own interpretations. It was weird at first, like, why does he care about my subconscious ramblings? But then I understood. For him, dreams are real, a part of who you are. By asking about mine, he was showing a deep, almost spiritual interest in my inner self. It was a way of connecting on a level most people don’t even think about.
Another big one was his defensiveness, but not in a bad way. If someone was being rude to me, or if I mentioned something upsetting, he’d get this look in his eyes, almost fierce. He wouldn’t necessarily jump in and fight my battles, but he’d always be there, offering quiet support, or just a reassuring touch on my arm if we were out. It was a subtle protective instinct, like he was creating a little bubble of safety around me.
He’d also remember the smallest things I told him. I once mentioned offhand that I loved this one obscure band from my teenage years. Weeks later, he sends me a link to a rare live recording of them that he’d somehow found online. That kind of attention to detail, remembering little throwaway comments, it showed me he was really listening, really absorbing everything about me.
And the eye contact? Oh man, when he finally gave you those long, deep looks. It wasn’t fleeting anymore. It was like his eyes were trying to see right into your soul, full of emotion, a mix of gentleness and this intense longing. Those were the moments I really felt it, like he was completely, utterly present with me, and nothing else in the world mattered.
So yeah, it wasn’t a checklist, not a straightforward list of “he does this, he’s hooked.” With him, it was all about the subtle stuff, the unspoken things. It was about his presence, his quiet thoughtfulness, his willingness to share his vulnerable inner world, and his genuine, almost ethereal connection to my own. Took me a while to decode it, but once I did, it was all so clear. He wasn’t just being friendly; he was completely, beautifully, and uniquely hooked.
