This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TCU chapter.
She was a dream, she was an angel, she was the only person that always crossed his
mind.
The thought of her full and childish smile lit up his world. He loved the way it reached
from ear to ear
She was an imperfect person that he saw as perfect.
He fell in love with the way her hand would cover her mouth when she laughed and how
her head would fall on her lap when she couldn’t contain it.
She wasn’t like most girls he would say.
She was special, she had an innocent heart that cared for everyone but the passion in her
eyes showed she wasn’t one to be messed with.
He loved the way she could go from zero to a hundred in hydro-speed.
She was fun and energetic but calm and compassionate when needed.
She was everyone’s therapist and counselor, she did what she could to help and never
asked for anything in return.
She cared more for everyone’s happiness then her own.
She was his whole world and he wanted to lock her away, keep her for himself.
He feared others might see the perfection under the flaws of her flesh. He feared the
world would change her.
It wasn’t the outer beauty that captured him.
But don’t get him wrong; he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
She was everything to him.
But the true beauty was her personality.
She had a way of brightening the darkest demons in his head, turning them into angels.
She seemed to know the right words to say without him ever having to open his mouth.
She was his world and everyone could see it.
The way he would brighten up and turn instantly happy in her presence.
The way he couldn’t take his eyes off her like she was a piece of art art just waiting to be
admired.
The only problem was she wasn’t his.
She wasn’t art hanging in his house.
She was free and did as she pleased.
The wind was her direction, her inner compass always pointed away.
She wanted to wonder and never settle in one place. She was a gypsy in the finest of
meanings, wild and free. Her nomadic soul captured the hearts of many.
She was a bird that couldn’t be caught, not even a photograph could capture the true
beauty of her essence and spirit,.
Her spirit danced in the colors of the sun’s rays on a warm summer day.
She was the dawn rising in the east and the sun setting in the west, she had a way of
capturing the sun and all its magical colors.
She was energy in its purest form; she couldn’t be captured and used.
She was something everyone desired but no one could ever posses, not truly possess.
But she was still his world even though she belonged to the changing tides and the
changing winds.
But a small piece of her always lived in him.
She was his world and his love.
She captured his essence with the smallest of efforts and there wasn’t any way he would
allow her to return it.
He wanted to be with her, even if it meant she wasn’t his but he was hers.
She held his heart in the palm of her hands but that’s where it would stay, no one could
take that from her. Not even him.