Writer

                                    

                                          
We were from different parts of the school. Still are, actually.
                          
She's the typical quiet girl. Beautiful inside and out but under appreciated and barely noticed. 
                          
I, on the other hand, am known for my athletics, academics and characteristics. Most people if not all, know how I've got accepted into this university with various options for scholarships. What they don't know, is that there's someone more amazing than I am.
                          
She sits across from me, finishing her project. 
                          
I look around the café we're in. Small space, a few people, but the smells is comfy and tasty. Like cookies mom bakes and coffee dad drinks in the morning.
                          
She sighs and I look at her, my heart pumping faster. Her dazzling hazel eyes always captivate me and I can't help but feel flustered at the sight of her. 
                          
She raises an eyebrow and I shake my head with a smile. 
                          
"Done?" I ask, pulling her handmade book to me.
                          
She reaches for it but gives up once it's in my hands.
                          
I flip through her book and get teary eyed as I read the story. 
                          
It's about us.
                          
The day I met him, it was crazy. I never thought that someone so popular could be so kind and caring, so genuine and open, so willing and committed to go through life with me.
                          
I read through the memories and the things we've overcome. 
                          
This isn't some cliché love story you read in books, no. He didn't turn my world upside down. He came into my world and made it so much better, helping me get through the ups and downs while adding color to my life. I am so blessed to have him. God really does bring the right people into your life at the right time and I'm glad he's not a lesson but a treasure. I can't wait to get through more of life together.
                          
I smile at her and see her shy smile. 
                          
"Don't feel shy about it." I whisper. I reach for her hand and rub circles around it, feeling the tension in her hand drop.
                          
"It's beautiful." I comment, handing the delicately made book back to her.
                          
She sips her strawberry milkshake with her other hand and stares at me with the beauty in her eyes.
                          
I stare back. 
                          
She smiles and moves her hand away from mine to continue writing. Writing isn't just for making handmade stories and requirements for college. She writes stories and published her own books, she writes random letters to me and we go back and forth, even if we leave quite near each other, and she writes whenever she can. She's so talented and skilled, anointed, at it too.
                          
You can read and feel the way she sees the world, the senses she uses, the emotions she feels, the way the weather makes her smile or maybe the way a cute dog makes her yearn for a house full of puppies. You understand who she is and how amazing she is through her writing. 
                          
When we became friends and eventually more than friends, our parents and families were overjoyed. If they felt super duper extra out of this world happy, they can't imagine how blessed and grateful I feel. 
                          
I watch as she continues to write, her pretty penmanship marking the paper. Even if she's quiet because she can't speak, I know that compared to me, she's so much better. And I'm so glad that I get every day to fall in love over and over again with a writer.