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Beautiful
She was beautiful.
She had a certain look about her, and I knew she didn’t care about what she looked like, and probably didn’t think she ever had a reason to. But she was beautiful. Her pale blue eyes were more amazing than anything I’d ever seen, and reminded me so much of the water, my natural comfort zone. Her short hair slipped into her eyes, but only for a moment. It seemed to curl around her ears, so comfortable with being pushed out of her face that it adjusted to being stuck there. Her beauty was subtle, but profound.
I didn’t notice her earlier. Funny how that happens. All of a sudden, a person you barely talked to becomes all you think about, everything you ever wanted. I started seeing in her what I’d never seen in anyone else, started noticing small things that nobody else bothered to notice. It was sad, actually, the level of confidence this girl lacked. As if no one had ever said to her that she was beautiful.
I would say she was beautiful. Scream it to the rooftops, whisper it to anyone who would listen, write it on my steamy mirror after a shower. I would say it. Just not to her.
Because like this girl, I was shy.
My shyness was not as extreme as hers. I wasn’t an introvert; I enjoyed people and could strike a conversation with anyone on the street. I just didn’t know how I really felt about this girl. She was beautiful, yes, but she was a girl. I tried not to be attracted to girls. It was easier that way.
But with her it was different. I couldn’t deny the feelings I got when I saw her, and the butterflies in my stomach when she looked at me. I didn’t want to.
But I also didn’t want to hurt her. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t tell her I liked her, because I didn’t trust myself not to hurt her. I wasn’t a heartbreaker. But she was a girl. And girls have feelings. I wasn’t used to dealing with that.
That didn’t work. I found myself sitting with her on her couch, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. She made me laugh, and I liked to laugh.
She also talked. Boys didn’t talk.
I found myself falling for her. She was the essence of innocence and I wasn’t sure if I could handle that. I didn’t trust myself around her. But I didn’t care. She was amazing, and I wanted to be amazing with her.
We talked about everything that first night – everything from family to past relationships to favorite movies. And I started to realize exactly why this girl was who she was. She needed me, just as much as I needed her, to confirm who we were.
And I suddenly let my doubts slip away from me.
“Can I kiss you?” I managed to ask, my heart beating a million miles a minute, but I no longer had any uncertainties.
Seconds went by, they felt like hours, and suddenly tons of thoughts were running through my mind. What would I do if she rejected me? I was terrified, and she wasn’t helping.
But then, “Sure,” and as I kissed her, I felt myself slipping into a trance, and all that mattered in the world was her and that I was kissing her.
She was beautiful. And eventually, she won’t doubt that.
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