To really appreciate the beauty of the story, you must really know and appreciate the two of them.
She was by far the greatest masterpiece God himself had ever created. The essence of the word “beautiful” had been captured in everything that was her. Her features were soft and yet precise. Each line and curve of her face seemed to have been drawn with the steady hand of an expert. Her eyes were captivating and piercing, and you could see flecks of mischief in a certain light. Her smile was welcoming and sincere, but the corners of her lips, you could see is where she hid her secrets. She had the body and form of a renowned ballerina; it was long, slender, and defined. And she moved equally as graceful to one. Each step she took and every movement was melodic. She moved as to a harmony or beat that only she could hear. She was delicate like a snowflake and just as unique. Her confidence and demeanor were intimidating to those of a lesser character; but she had this spirit to her that made her as vibrant and as affable as a young child. Her voice was soothing and unlike anything you had ever heard. To hear her speak was to know what it may be like to have a conversation with an angel. She had a personality that was easy to trust but would constantly keep you on your toes. The only thing sharper than her personality was her wit. Her determination and defiance was like that of a rose that had blossomed in the winter. She was living poetry and was the next great sonnet but no one had read her yet, and she was the lost painting by Di Vinci that had never been seen. Yet, for those who knew her, she was simply herself. She was a warm, sincere, genuine and affectionate person. The kind that one always knew would have an ear for listening. She would always have just the right words or none at all depending on the circumstance. She had also been blessed with the extraordinary virtue of patience. The people in her life regarded her for the fact she hadn’t fallen for the labels or ideals of society and the ramblings of television and media. Somehow this masterpiece had remained as pure as a ray of sunlight. She had remained untouched and unblemished by the cruel hands of reality. She was steadfast and relentless when it came to her beliefs and convictions. But she was not naive or simple in the sense of her smarts either. Her beauty and elegance were only rivaled by her intelligence. Her intellect was driven by her passion and constant thirst for the arts and sciences, a thirst that could not be quenched. She soaked up knowledge like a dry desert would soak up rain. She was fascinated by everything and was bored by nothing. She was a simple complexity. She found joy in when it rained and sadness in crowds. She was alive but needed to have life breathed into her. She was beautiful but was unaware of it. And she was whole but always felt empty.
Jameson Wilds 