She was unique in the way she spoke. Straight forward and yet in amusing riddles. She was cute in the strangest of ways, and her smile was one that didn't bring me in, but kept me at a safe distance. She was unique in the way she said her hi's and goodbye's. She would say my full name, give me a compliment, and then leave. And for some reason, that was all I could ever need from her. It's hard to admire her like I've admired others, for I think if I stare too long, I'll muddle the image of this amazing girl.

She was some kind of wonderful. She was some kind of breathtakingingly amazing. In the little known aspects of her, I loved every sentence in every chapter. Enough to reminisce when I'm lonely. Enough to base my hope off when I'm sad. She made me feel like some kind of wonderful. Some kind of wonderfully beautiful.

And yet, she is in her own sunny world. A trespasser in my rainy realm. I always wanted to hold out my hand in her time of spring, and bring her into my cold comfortable winter. But I am too weak both by society's standards and mine. I never know if I loved her. But the day she took me home, I swear she seemed so dreamy like.

Sometimes I question if she was really there.