She could laugh and she could smile; I could never tell her how wonderful that was to me, a sense of noneness, a void that contained only an eternal bliss, a bliss complete in its ignorance of any pain.
Then there were times when she cried, tears she shed; they never made any sense to me, they were very precious, too precious to be shed upon anything or anyone, and last of all on me.
She was extremely stubborn, strong-headed and strict; she could be the strict matron that would discipline when I would do something wrong, but she could be quite blind to what met her eye.
She was kind and cruel too, not the stone-hearted females, but a cute feliney type that would purr its way; for all the short-temper was just a facade to the wonderful heart she had.
She believed she was extremely strong at heart; and yet it needed a gecko far up on the wall, to provoke her to scream and shout.
She believed she was a toughie and never much cared about people, I humored her, for I knew, she would be disturbed when people (mis)judged her.
I knew what made her cringe,
I knew what made her cry,
I knew what made her laugh,
I knew what made her smile,
I knew what excited her,
I knew what made her jump in excitement,
I knew what made her an utterly hopeless romantic,
I knew what made her sad,
I knew the dust that welled the tears,
I knew what irritated her,
I knew what she loved,
I knew what she hated,
I knew her mood spells,
I knew when she would throw the temper-tantrums,
I knew when she put her foot down,
I knew how i could sweep her off her feet,
I knew how she felt when i put mine down,
I knew how she felt when i would murmur ‘I love you’ near her ears and how she liked it,
I grimaced when she acted like a bratten little kid,
I respected when she turned into a strict matron when I would mess things up,
I felt coveted when she would look at me proudly like I was gift and
I felt treasured when she would rest her head on my shoulders and I would close my eyes, trying to cherish as much of the moment as was humanly possible, however hard i tried I failed, and then i would return to the moment that currently was, just living it.
I loved to hear her talk, ramble incessantly, and then sometimes trying to turn me jealous by hitting on others, and when i never played it to her, how she got irritated and felt insecure.
I got irritated; when she would just not listen to me, or talk to me, see the world from my eyes.
In things, how we came the closest to understanding each other, almost to the point of being one another, but then how we will never ever come close to being a man and a woman.
And then she left…
(Dedicated to all the wonderful women out there; this is only for you)