About him.. or about her?

It was as magical and tragic as I could want it to be. He was there: green eyes lost in nothing but the next bottle of beer. Or that's what anybody would think when looking at him. 'cause in reality, well... I would like to describe what he was thinking about; but that is something no one could ever know, as he was entirely the definition of a mystery. While he was lost in his own world, I was right in front of him, in his friend's arms, and even though the night was cold and confusing, I can still remember the solitude in his look that, contrary to what I expected, made me feel like I wasn't alone in this world. That night, the only thing that existed to me was him, or maybe, a part of me that I got to see in another being different to me, so the connection wasn't really between two beings, but between a stupid girl and her sad, stupid and controlling ego. And that would be for ever the cause of the pain and suffering of all her future days.

¡Muy poético y romantico!