She’s not like me. Not at all. I don’t understand what draws me to her. Actually, I do. I understand fully. They’re the same things that draw everyone else to her. I guess it’s just hard to explain why I, a boring square of a person, think I could ever have a shot with her. That I could ever please her. I couldn’t. She’s wild. She’s wild and she’s amazingly captivating. Her spirit is free and her voice impassioned, especially when in song. Her face glows when she speaks and her eyes light up. I never can seem to understand how she runs on such vital, pure, unbridled energy and how she manages to bring such joy and pleasure into everything she does and says. It’s like magic, really. She always looks for the bright side of things and the good in people. But, at the same time she’s fierce. Fiercely independent. Sharp and stubborn and angry. Sad and insecure and vulnerable. Beautiful. Striking. Lost. Naive. Gullible. And yet, strong. Stronger than anyone I know. She’ll never love me. She’s too much for a fool like me. But, as I think that, and just as I’m about to give up on her, she does something absolutely lovely and sweet and gives me this hope. She has a marvelous way of giving everyone hope. She wants everyone to succeed and to be happy and feel loved and she takes it upon herself to make sure they’re alright.

I love her, god damn it, and I wish I didn’t.