Now Now. . . She wanted to know how she is. She wanted to be described. She wanted me to write about her and tell her how profound her little imperfections made her. She wanted me to sketch her on a canvas with words. To fill in lines with her charisma and leave them to fly free. I told her that even the richest of the strokes and brightest of the colors can’t match the exquisiteness of character. That even the most lavish of the vocabulary and most embellished of words can’t signify the elegance of personality. That the soul is an ocean, depths of which can’t be touched by everyone. That depth cannot be filled with writings, as much heavy or meaningful as they be. Those who touch it are special and those are the ones, you know in your heart are there to stay. But she wanted this so I’ll try. I’ll try to tell you how my girl is.
She is full of love, full of as much as there is. She is so generous as to give it all away, give it all away in full. If you are so lucky as to be loved by her, you’d find her the most loving person you met. Piss her off and she’d show you a mountain of rage topped with ice-cold hate you’d get scared of. That’s how my girl is.
She is puerile and won’t get the simplest of jokes. Her simplicity is adorable and sometimes you would even think her silly. Then she’d surprise you with the wisest of words you would have never anticipated. You’d think she doesn’t understand anything and then someday she’d tell you things about you, you yourself never fathomed. That’s how my girl is.
She would seem weak and fragile and you’d be afraid to break her heart that how she would reconcile. She is afraid of things as harmless as cats and would cry even for the silliest of things and you’d think her susceptible. It’s only when you’ve actually known her that you’d realize that she is not weak, she is vulnerable in front of you because she trusts you. Break that trust and she’ll turn into the coldest and hardest of forts. That’s how my girl is.
She is the prettiest of things, but she doesn’t know that, which makes her all the more beautiful. She carries her grace in a way that is admired in a lady. One day you see her dressed as a tom boy, the next day she comes dressed as a princess putting you in a confusion if this is the same person. That’s how my girl is.
She can irritate you, imitate you, tease you, poke you, even hit you but you just can’t stop loving her. That’s how my girl is. She can make you smile, make you laugh, make you cry, even make you sick, but you just can’t stop adoring her. That’s how my girl is. She can be your sister, friends, junior, sister, colleague, boss, teacher or student but you just can’t stop caring for her. That’s how my girl is. She is my favorite girl. That’s how my girl is.