i knew from the moment i met her that she was someone i could, and would, fall in love with.
she wasn't even that pretty -
wait, i sound like a douche. i didn't mean it like that.
in my head she was a wildfire of brilliance, witty remarks and bright eyed optimism. just breathing around her filled my lungs with helium that lifted every dark corner of my being and scattered the dank contents into rose petals. she was was like a ferraro roche in a field of cheap 70% dark and I could not get her out of my head.
she wasn't the most beautiful specimen i had ever seen - that doesn't sound much better - but her wide grey eyes never failed to freeze me in place and she smiled like she kept the world's secrets. sure, her face was a little thin and her nose was a little crooked and she had that scar on her cheek; but what did that matter when her laugh was bolder than the sun?
she always smelled nice. i know, i've lucked out on eloquent descriptions but i never paid much attention to finicky glass bottles. what i do know is that every time she passed me i fell deeper into an addiction to her scent - it sounds creepy, i know, okay?
she had the longest, sexiest legs - man, i know, but i'm only human - and they were nearly always encased in the skinniest jeans that any god-like entity could ever fathom. rainbow colours too, i'm not even joking. she had green, blue, yellow, red, give me any colour and i bet you she has it crammed into her closet. she seemed to favour purple, though, and that's coincidentally my favourite colour. it's a sign, i fucking tell you.
but when she wore dresses, god-fucking-damn. i could not breathe.
my favourite thing about her though - appearance wise because her personality is just not even of this world - was her hair. a vibrant inferno cascading all the way down her back, but always securely tied back with a fading black hair tie. but dear god, i could imagine her pulling that tie out of her hair and letting the fiery locks frame her face and sink around her shoulders. if i saw that on my death bed i would die with my heart set figuratively ablaze and i would be buried with a smile on my face.
i have loved her for the longest time and liked her for longer yet. when she touches me - just a hand on my shoulder or a hand on my knee when she laughs - electric tingles shock me into falling deeper and deeper in love with her and everything about her. i knew everything about her, i'd held her while she cried and i'd told her her everything in return because i knew i could trust her implicitly.
she was my everything.
is my everything.
but she could never know.
can never know.