luni, 6 ianuarie 2014

There is no better place to write about her, than here. 
I tried to write on her facebook wall and then deleted it, then I wrote about her in my notebooks but it seemed small and insignificant.
There is this girl out there, I'd marry if I were a boy. 
She's not the kind of girl you'd just walk past by,
she's not the kind of woman you'd let her go.
She comes and go
I have never seen such a free spirit like hers. 
"She's the lady in red, when everybody else is wearing black."
She keeps forests and oceans together in her heart and her love is a mountain worth climbing a hundred times. 
We all loved her, but sometimes it's difficult for her to remember this, when fears and insecurities creep in and her,so beautifully carved on her face, eyes, cloud with sadness. So I'm writing this to you, my dearest friend.
You are beautiful and you are one of a kind. Not because we all are, not because I'm your friend,but because I have seen your truth and with tears in my eyes, I resigned with the thought: this will be the most beautiful thing I have and will ever see.  
Her lips can destroy and build again within seconds but with so much kindness, it leaves you breathless. 
Her hands hold so much grace within their fingers, you'd think angels play with her fingertips when she sleeps.
So when your eyes cloud up again in sadness, remember these two things I used to tell you: "When I grow, I want to grow like you.", "you are a star, you shine your own light. you don't reflect." 
Please, if you ever meet her, let her be and expand her boundaries. You'll understand then why they say "A smile is the best thing a woman can wear." 
She'll change your whole life with that smile.
You'll see, there will be books about her and movies and theatre plays, and if not, I will learn to create them and I will keep her alive like that. 

"She never looked nice. 
She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; 
it was supposed to make you feel something.”
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