Her.

She was beautiful. And it’s not the ordinary beautiful you would ever think of. She was beautiful. A kind of beautiful I never thought I would ever meet. When I came back, I thought everything would have gone back to its ordinary way of being. Seeing the same people, doing the same things, going to the same places. But then I met her. And my God, ordinary was everything she was not. She was beautiful in the way she lost herself into art galleries, she didn’t look at pieces the way I did, she looked past that, she saw worlds I couldn’t even imagine, she was beautiful in the way she poured her whole into literature, and you really couldn’t grasp a touch from her then, she was beautiful in the way she sometimes got lost in thought, and her eyes became darker, distant, and you really couldn’t know what it was that was vibrating in her mind, she was clean water, pure air, wilderness, she was beautiful, the most passionate, ecstatic, mysterious, beautiful I’ve ever come across to. She didn’t like to look too far ahead, neither did she enjoy going too far behind, she liked now better. Before her, the sky was the same sky I have waken up to for the past 20 years, I didn’t know then, that somewhere between 5 am to 7 am, if you looked close enough, you could see a self portrait of yourself projecting into the sky. Before her, the night was only dark and black, and back then, I didn’t learn yet that what it really was, was a parallel universe made up of all our dreams and fears, that would someday allow us to set ourself free. Before her, I was just a man. Before her, I didn’t know what it meant to fall hopelessly and madly in love with someone. Before her, everything was black and white, and now, everything is a range of different shades of infinite possibilities. But most importantly, before her, my heart was still whole.