In response to someone who wishes they had never loved me;
He loved her. While everyone else thought that she was dull and mild, gloomy and grey, he could see her bright colours shining through her eyes, strong enough to blind people who wanted to see. And in a crowd of girls where everyone had their hair cascading down their shoulders, she had hers in a tight top knot trying to be invisible unknowingly separating herself from the rest. And while the other girls had flowers in their hair with wind passing through them, blowing them away from their faces, she had a headband in her braided hair that tightly bounded it all, leaving no space for them to move and yet still managed to look messy and eye-catching. The strands of her hair that escaped the strong grasp of the band, caressed her face and while the others were busy sorting them out to prevent them from getting ruined, she couldn’t care less for she wasn’t even present with these straw-filled people. She was busy admiring her own thoughts and creating a world only she knew of. She was silent but loud enough for people who wanted to hear. The screaming shades of grey, black and blue she possessed in comparison to the bright ones of red, yellow and green were far more appealing to him. And while the other girls wrote long paragraphs defining and admitting their love, she wrote two words which held more promise in them than any of what the others wrote. She was not afraid to write nor did she shy away from emotions that surfaced her soft features. She did not interfere nor did she cut you off to finish your sentences for she waited for you to finish and explain, to be honest and clear so she could not judge. And he knew that if he had a choice, he would pick her a million times for she was his. She was a breath of warm air on an icy cold morning that makes you feel welcome but still reminds you of the coldness that will envelop you once she’s gone.