A lifetime

Her

"She fell in love with him. It wasn't a surprise. It was kind of inevitable, because they were two matching souls"

She liked to stay awake until 3:00 am in the morning playing cards and drinking tea.     Smoking cigarette after cigarette. Whenever I asked why she smoked that much she replied, "Because I feel cool, I like felling cool.."

She was right. She looked cool, but do you have to kill yourself slowly just to seem   — cool.

It was like she read my mind because the next thing she said  -"Aren't we all gonna die someday? sooner or later we'll stop existing. We have to do something before our lives end. — She puts her cigarette down— Most of the time I don't even waste my time worrying about what the fuck these things—she points the cigarette— do to my body.

Her blue light eyes were full of darkness, but they also shined with melancholy in the pale moonlight , it seemed like she could start crying in any moment. Her diamond-shaped face was so pretty, and her chin was beautifully defined, her jawline was a masterpiece. Trying to focus on beating her in a poker game was impossible, she was watching me with that damm pretty face of hers, so I went to the kitchen with the excuse of being thirsty, truth is it didn't help me focus at all, my mind wouldn't let go of the picture of her watching me.  The fact that I was trying so hard on focusing brought me a headache, I told her I was leaving, she just waved her hand at me, as if saying "okay, whatever".

I never left, I liked watching her. I liked watching how her short curly  hair moved with the wind, like the ocean. I liked how her eyes changed color in the night, I liked how she closed her eyes to feel the wind on her face.I liked how she tilted her head when there was something she didn't understand.I liked how her eyebrows arched when she was joking ,when she was mad or being sarcastic. I liked how her face wrinkled when she was drinking something. I liked how she bit her lip when she found something interesting.I liked how her fingers moved following the rhythm of any song she was listening to. I liked how she danced passionately when anybody played music. I liked how she moved her hips from side to side, while she cooked.I liked how she ran barefoot as fast as she could through her huge backyard, always calling us to come with her, like running in the night, was some kind of adventure. We never ran with her, we thought she was crazy, though I've always wanted to follow her.  I liked watching her write, how she waved her hand at me when she had an idea, how her penmanship looked, so delicate. 

I liked how her words made me feel. I liked reading her poetry,  it was a grateful experience, how she could express with her writting and photography.

What her pictures represented; freedom, hapinnes, sadness, melancholy, beauty, darkness, brightness — everything, her.

Her words, her pictures, her art. Her skin, her lips, her hair, her eyes, her half moon smile. Well, in general what she ment to me.

She had power. Power in me.  I loved it, I loved her.

March 9