Dear Diary, She was beautiful. As long as I'll live, I'll never meet somebody as beautiful as her. When I walked outside together, the moonlight turned her hair an ashy grey. Her eyes twinkled and reflected the stars. Her smile was wide and her voice with filled with excitement. We held hands which she playfully swung backwards and forwards ever so slightly. We talked about music and art. Apparently she was a pretty good artist. The topic turned to literature and I told her I'd love to work as a publisher. She smiled and listened intently as I recited everything I'd love about the job. The restaurant's food was amazing. It was already paid for by my father, considering it was supposed to be my parents' anniversary dinner. She looked shocked by the extravagance of the whole affair. She didn't waste a bite of her meals. She was dressed in this amazing, dark blue dress. It had a pinched waist and bare shoulders. She was beautiful. After our meal we walked to my car. We sat and listened to old jazz and our hands were linked once more. It was 10pm. We drove home. She followed me up to my bedroom and slipped into the bathroom to change out of her dress. I changed in my room. I was not expecting anything. I was given something. She came out of my en suite wearing shorts and a string top. She straddled my lap, like she had in her friend's bedroom all those weeks ago, and she kissed me. A sweet, honest kiss. Her hand was on the back of my neck. My hand was on her waist. It lasted for an eternity which felt like a mere moment. She is beautiful.