She is not beautiful. No, she is a riot of emotions, tumbling forth from the darkest clouds like a thousand heavy raindrops, ready to drown you in an instant, should you step too close. She is the sun shining on your face that makes you believe in fairy tales although you swore you outgrew them in fifth grade and that they were stupid. She is the wind, too stubborn to let you pass in a blizzard, too proud to let you win. And yet like the cool summer breeze she will calm your mind, extinguishing in the process the very fire she burned you with. She is strong like diamond, formed in the extremest of conditions, yet she is also weak like crystal, easily broken and hard to mend. Her sobs will break your heart and her laughter will heal it again, and youâll wonder how someone so happy can be so sad at the same time. Her words will be crafted so eloquently youâll wonder where she learnt to speak like this and to disguise her emotions so well. And you will search, under the many layers of contradiction that she hides, to find the lost and frightened girl from long ago. And if youâre lucky enough that she lets you in, past the fortresses and walls; if youâre lucky enough to see a side to her which is vulnerable and unguarded; innocent and trusting, donât take it for granted or treat her like sheâs insignificant. Sheâs complex and a mystery. But if she gives you her heart she will love you fiercely and without exception. She is not beautiful. But she hopes you will love her just the same.
Excerpt from a book Iâll never write #19Â
