She’s not tall, not short either, she’s about five foot six inches. Average weight nothing about her figure that stands out or calls attention to itself. Long, half way down her back, straight brown hair. Gray blue eyes, eyes that make no suggestion – demand nothing – eyes that drink in in order to understand. Most of the time her smile is faint, not quite non-committal, willing to be sad or happy but leaning toward happy. White skin has the slightest patch of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
When I first saw her I was attracted to her quiet needless place in the group she stood with. She listened as those around her solved the problems of the world. She smiled when they made sense and frowned when their views were dangerous but her world was fine and needed no defending. She simply wasn’t a salesman or a shopper. Not self-centered or exclusive either. Her life and beliefs were there for anyone to see. She didn’t tell you not to lie she didn’t lie, she didn’t tell you to care for others she cared, without forcing an expression everything about her shouted. And when she looked at me I melted. She possessed the things I needed. My response was to desire to possess her even when everything I saw said that was not only impossible; if it became possible it would not be what I needed.
Her kisses were simple, no tongue – no aggression, just softness. Her hugs not even a hug, just holding each other leading nowhere. When she held me that was what she was doing, not thinking ahead to the next thing, nothing was next the world stopped and waited patiently until the time for holding was past.
We walk and I talk. I tell her all the things that might be true and all the things that are misrepresented. She listens. I go on about plans and goals, how this can be accomplished and how that needs to be done. She listens. For a long time I was afraid she would mold to my will she would follow and become only me, but I had nothing to worry about. What I wanted to happen has happened – she has changed me. As I know her longer she becomes more and more powerful as my greatness fails. The quiet creek gently cuts its way through the granite stone until soft sand conforms to the bed of the stream.