She was weak that way. Its what she thought she was. In the way she established priorities with the only logic of loyalty to feelings. In the way she was a renegade to constrictions of time and space impeding her faith. In the way she broke her walls before she remembered to redeem the coupons of reciprocity. In the way she honoured him with truth and her last sweated penny. In the way she crafted art around those eyes and mouth only. In the way she defied his struggles and trembled before his dreams, being there for both, as if they were hers. In the way she pampered the thought of him and felt amazing in his reality.
She was strong that way. Its what he thought she was. In the way he saw her hope even in the darkest spots with blind reasoning and acute sensitivity. In the way little disappointments were tricked with a caring thought or a self-knitted sock to keep his feet warm. In the way he could count on her choice to forget only to forgive moments cheating on serenity. In the way he couldnt see negative outcomes if he looked too long in her eyes. In the way he cared for her pride she gambled only to keep his word safe and maintain the level of trust. In the way he surrounded her with little things, for her moments of silver screen. In the way he knew, every time she was around, that he was wonderful.
She loved that way. Its what she took pride in the most.
(Picture credits: TomNeil-FiveWishes. Soar, soaring-words.com)
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