Clare is such a unique beauty, and that's just one of the many things I love about her. Her eyes right now are squinting in thought, and I stare at her as she chews on the back of her pencil before she starts her next sentence. She looks up at me and smiles.

How did I get so lucky? I've messed up so many things in my life, I surely didn't deserve for this beautiful mess I created to go right. Such a dark past made way for such a light future, I realize, as I think about my goals in life. I continue to pretend to type my own story, but Clare is so distracting, so I just keep typing my lovely thoughts about her.

She believes in the rawness of seeing her words on a paper page. She writes with pencil, and she scribbles fast, her hand sometimes smudging over the lead. I admire her delicate fingers, and the gracefulness she has as she glides the pencil over the page. Her palm is stained with gray lead, and she seems to be lost in a thought as she furiously continues to write.

She is wearing a blue dress today, a color that made her eyes stand out more iced-blue than usual. Those eyes were like sapphires, staring straight into my heart; filled with an ocean of ideas, just waiting to pour out onto the page in front of her. Her lips are pursed, a face she often made while deep in thought. I thought about kissing those lips, so thin and perfect. The tastes of her kisses are reminiscent of the honey and metha lip gloss she applied religiously. Beautiful brown, perfect ringlets encircled her face, framing what to me was the most captivating of all pictures.

Her petite body shows the curves of a woman, and I love every inch of it. Her soft white skin was just ever so delicate and smooth. I often thought about what it would be like to feel every inch of her, something I'm sure that one day I would experience.

The best thing about Clare was that not only does she have gorgeous outer beauty, but her inner beauty dared to match. She cares deeply for friends and family, and she is the most passionate person I had ever met. To even have experienced her existance in my life is like an amazing gift that will last forever.

She looks up and realizes my quick frequent glances at her.

"I love you," I say simply, smiling my signature half-smile in her direction.

"I love you too Eli," she says back, standing up, "What are you writing anyway?"

She's reading over my shoulder as I type, and her face turns bright red as her blue eyes scan over my detailed description of her.

"It's true," I say, "I don't know if I even skimmed the surface of a perfect description of you."

She doesn't say a word; she just stares at me with those big eyes, and leans in for a kiss.

Soft and sweet, filled with love, and honey, and mentha lip gloss.

Forehead to forehead she finally replies, "Thank you."

And the rest is just history.