"So, what is she like?"
He took a deep breath before answering and leaned his head back with eyes closed shut, as if the blacks of his eyelids would give him a more vivid image of her. It was a simple question, but he took some time before opening his cracked lips. When he did finally speak, it came out much softer than I expected and I think than he expected because once the words started flowing, his eyes winced as if he was in some type of pain.
"I think she's the type of girl you never really get over. One of those girls God gives you young so you know the pain of loss the rest of your life, ya know?" He runs his fingers through his already messy hair. "Where do you start with her? She's complex. She's a novel and my fingertips have only traced over the cover of her book. I love her when she's happy and I love when her mascara is running, painting down the side of her cheek like the intricate piece of art she is. Her laugh is too loud and obnoxious but it's like a siren where everyone passing has to see for themselves. She has this one crooked tooth and she wants to get it fixed but her mama won't let her and I agree because it reminds me that even flaws can be beautiful. She doesn't like the way she looks but I tell her that she is a masterpiece and you don't look at art because it's pretty, you look at it because it makes you feel something. She has galaxies inside of her eyes and I know they're infinite because when she looks at me I don't see any barriers for once. I touch her thigh and sparks collide and I swear I can hear symphonies in her laugh. I kiss her and I can taste the next 60 years of my life unfolding right before me. She loves and she loves deeply and sometimes it hurts her, but somehow she always ends up on her own two feet. She might be little and she can come off as too sensitive, but you won't find a girl that loves you as deeply as she does. She will love you at 2am and wake you up to tell you the way she likes her coffee, and she will love you at 3pm when she stops by your house to bring the newspaper to your front door. She will love you in overwhelming amounts where you feel the tide taking you under and all you crave is to breathe again, but you will always come back up asking for more. When she smiles I feel like every ounce of my being is thanking me for making it this far in life. When she smiles every ounce of me is thankful I'm alive to see it."
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
"Because there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."
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