beautiful

It was the beauty that she wielded through her imperfections that struck me. Not like being struck in the back of the head by a stone, but more like awakening from a dream. You know, the moment after your eyes open and you come to the sudden and often disappointing realization that the life you were just living wasn’t reality… and it hurts. The thought of the entire day lying before me with minimal chance of joy or reward hurts. It’s striking in a slow and educational way. There’s no method or conventionality to her beauty. While watching her move around the room, and listening to the way she speaks, I try to put my finger on what it is that makes her beautiful, that makes it impossible to withdraw your attention from her for more than a moment, but I can’t because her beauty isn’t founded in any sort of reasoning that we have a label for. It’s a completely unique beauty that resonates through her distinctiveness in my world. She stands out. She is an answer to a question that I ask every day without actually asking. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what the question is… but she is my answer. Well… that’s her.