We started off as two people who talked and inside my mind I wouldn't dare regard her as a friend and ruin the possibility of what we could be but it was ironical how I told her constantly that she was the closest to a best friend I could have, using it as an excuse to help myself believe that what we were was something more than...two people simply talking. I wanted to love her but I did not know if I could. On the other hand she was an artist who was clueless of being artistic. Looking at her I was reminded of how cool it was to have eyes, because to me her simple gestures were like poetry in motion. I could never describe her to a third person because she was so whimsical and it was hard to get a hold on her personality. It was a challenge, getting to know and comprehend her and I truly adored it. She never realized how she stripped off my larger than life ego off of me, which was magic to me because the mystery of her was the unravelling of everything I wished to know about me. Somewhere along my journey with her I found all the pieces torn apart and I knew that it was stormy outside but it couldn't rain forever and after all her eyes were little pieces of the sun.
Decisions to decisions are made but eventually I thought, it wouldn't hurt a lot, I guess not. That is when I said, "should we try?"...