Beauty Undefined (completely re-written and Finished)

I re-wrote mostly all of it and finished it, please tell what you think thank you :)

Beauty Undefined
Seven billion, this number counts all the human lives, standing on planet earth as I currently write. That number fluctuates every second with births, and with deaths. With birth, love is born, with birth, love was made. In death love is pained, disturbed, and grieving, although after death love cannot be lost for that soul. Our soul is like the earths wind, you cannot see it, but you can feel it. When you feel the soul of that special person you fell in love with, it gives you chills, it warms you, and blows you away completely, just as the wind does. The wind takes your soul away when you decease.
Looking your lover deep in their eyes makes them the focal point of that moment. They are the only person you see, and the only thing you see to be precise, because everything else around them becomes inevitable. The blissful thoughts emerge rapidly, and you are captivated in a world you formulated just for them. Beauty can only be constructed by those who feel it, not see it. A truly stunning person is not just pleasure to your eyes. Real love is fathomless, like the ocean is seemingly endless.
Its 3:00 a.m. in a peacefully retired city. Under the roof of a two bedroom apartment, a queen sized bed is positioned in the corner of the room, leaning next to the plain white bare walls. The room smells like the crisp air of a clear summer night, with the window being slightly cracked open. Barely gleaming through the cracks of the plastic grey blinds, is the moon lights florescent beam. He could feel a leisurely breeze sweeping the bare skin of my arms, and face, cool enough to raise the hairs atop his arms and neck. A faint melody, echoed through the room, a soft acoustic tune is played through the small speakers of a cell phone. It lay atop an orange night stand, next to a glass of iceless water, and a short table lamp made of dried up coral wreath, whit a rounded, white, lampshade. The lamp lit the room dimly, but everything in the room was still visible.
Under the tanned bed spread lays Jane, with her head resting on a fuzzy, brown body pillow that lies horizontally across the top of the bed. John laid there right next to her, facing her with his head propped up by his left hand, as his elbow rested on top of the mattress. John knew Jane growing up, but spent barely any time with her to know who she was as a person. They went to school together during their teenage years, but never really talked during that time. Jane was two years older than John, and up until that summer he hadn’t seen her in years. John hadn’t a faint idea what was about to take place that summer. How did John end up in the same bed with her? John doesn’t know, and neither does Jane. It was one of those unexplained mysteries, only God knows the purpose of unexpected meetings.
The two young adults conversed as if they had been friends forever. Stories were told, jokes were made, and flirtatious teasing took place that morning. Comfort began to sink into both of their minds, and even if Jane wanted to, she could not shut John up. As the night started to unfold and time grew a couple hours older, something happened. The mouth that wouldn’t stop moving began to slowly close, and his eyes started to open. The room got significantly brighter to john, but it wasn’t because he had adjusted to the lighting of the room.
He had really begun to notice Jane. Her personality radiated, he loved the way she giggled at everything he said. He loved the way her mouth looked when she talked, and enjoyed her soft pretty voice. Not being able to stop studying this young woman, so fascinated was john, and three hours prior he didn’t have a thought about her. She was very reserved and easy going, making her easily attractive. She invited effortless discussion, making it merely simple to have instant favorable feelings towards her. Jane twirled her hair with her small hands, her locks were highlighted a dirty blonde, it was exceptionally thick and luscious, with a mild wavy outline that reached all the way down to her mid back. Modestly stealing Johns heart were angelic eyes, innocently she sat and looked at John while they spoke, but had no idea what thoughts were flowing behind his eyes. If she was a mind reader, she would instantly understand that this man had never seen a female as stunning as she.
The pumping of blood amplified tremendously, the thumping sound bounced inside johns still body with an inner volume to his ears. His body temperature exceeded normality, a cold and clammy sweat seeped through his large hands. He couldn’t hear her adorable delicate voice anymore, as her mouth continued to move in the precious way John obsessed over. The magical moment was frozen in time, when her eyes stopped and greeted his it was all over for him. He sat there silently speechless, as her pupils pierced his soul. Her long brown eyelashes batted in slow motion every ten seconds, and she wore no eye makeup, comfortably exposing herself as no other woman would dare.
She had stopped moving her soft, shiny, light pink lips, simply moistened from her lip balm. She gazed right back at John allowing the two to impose on each other and their facial features. Large, round, black pupils held small white specks of light in the very center, and was coated with a glossy shine. Around the edges of her dilated pupils, were fascinating patterns of mostly teal green, and brown, vividly intriguing, and exposed from the large oval shaped openings. On one of her piercing eyes, a small brown freckle stood alone in the hazel like matrix, making Jane that much more uniquely special. The very outside layer made up of a white, pure as heaven glow, allowing those eyes to pop. Captured in a silhouette of sexy, and sweet like honey, all john could do was eye the magic. She had a soft bright complexion, and angel kisses sparsely dazzled her inner cheeks, and the top of her cute nose. Angels from above know the angels from below, and in the presence of Jane, Heavens lights shown down upon her.
Beauty is such a broad characterization of a woman, to call Jane “beautiful”, would be an insult to John. He fails to find any word that remotely resembles what he portrays her as. As society would tell, women love to be called “beautiful”. As cliché as he finds this adjective, he feels Jane deserves an earthlike summary to her supernaturally exotic display. As bizarre as rain splashing against your forehead, as your eye sight travels from infinity and beyond. Never once are you distracted by dark, gloomy storm clouds, because they are mysteriously invisible. God nourishes the planet with two essential elements, which rarely dance together on the same day. Not a manmade device could divert your eyes from the spell your under. Induced into a foreign coma, the fascination of enchantment submerges you deep into the charades of the sea. It stretches you to the tips and the tops of colossal mountains, decorated by rich green forestry, and innumerable creatures. Boundless rivers flow with superiority over human life, and into plain valleys filled by calm lakes.
The seasons dress the land quarter by quarter. Thirsty trees, flowers, and shrubs, beg for rain as they unfreeze, and awake the hibernation of winter. Bulbs from an array of mystical flowers begin to open and expose the beauty from within, emitting natural fragrances, willingly invited by our noses. Birds sing melodies matched by portraits of the day, honey is created in the business of honey bees, working together to make mouth-watering, liquid gold. The Sun grows with the year, boasting its overwhelming powerful rays, lightly searing our fragile skin. To cool off and conclude yet another year full of god given seasons, is winter. Microscopic patterns develop beautiful snow-flakes, as they wane lethargically to frozen earthly top. Each snow-flake symbolizes a memory made by the 7 billion humans that year. Creating a blanket to cover the past, as it sleeps and is only awakened through faint memories we open up momentarily in our futures.
This is the beauty of Jane, precious as the love life has to offer, glamorous as the scenic art created from the God above, that he allows us to explore and live in. The depth of her allurement is bottomless, and the height of her elegance is infinite. It’s like trying to grab water, it is trying to fly with no help of machinery, and it cannot be done, an empty summary. Only John Knows and feels this, he understands that if this was love, you can see, feel, taste, hear, smell it. But as this story concludes these are the letters he writes to Jane.