She was all i had. I never understood why she talked to me. I neverunderstood why she cared about me. She was the type of girl that,with a smile had everyone mesmerised even if she didn't believed it.Her eyes where filled with something not a lot of people had.Passion. Love. Kindness. I admired her honestly. And what killed methe most was that she wasn't able to see the beauty she had. Shehated hersel so much that it was painfull. She couldn't stand herreflection, her smile, wich I thought was the most beautyfull thingabout her, her eyes wich she found to big, her beautyfull hair wichmade her look like a 70's model, her lips as plump as a peach...shewas the portrait of an angel. Her caramel skin was as smooth as youcould think. And her laugh.....oh her laugh....it was like asymphony. The way her teeth showed each time she smiled, the way hereyes would glowe each time that beautyfull sound rolled of her lipsand filled my ears with honey. Her long and thin legs made heralready magnetiezing siloueth look feathery. And her soft and delicatarms, wich I liked to hold on to each time I walked next to her, mademe fell at home each time she hold me in my darkest moments. I likedto spend time with HER. Her presence made everything go purple. Iloved to hear her talk, espeacially about things she loved. The wayher eyes started to glow, the way her arms began dancing likeballerinas from a russin ballet, the way only one corner of her lipsbent upwards, forming little wrinkles on her cheek. I could watch her for hours, days, months. The only problem is that, as many otherpeople, society distroyed her. She could be so happy, and the secondafter, her eyes will fill up with crystal tears wich rolled of offher pink and fluffy checks and ended their life, smashed on thetable. Her soul was so broken that nothing and no one could explainthe way she felt. The pain in her soul was so much to cope with thatsome times the only way she could fell okay about herself was topaint. Paint on herself. Paint thoes marks that are now part of herbeautyfull caramel canvas. I never knew how to help her. I alwaysstayed by her side trying my best to show her how perfect she was,she never believed me, she never understood my words. I always triedto make that smile that I idolize so much apear. Some times Iachieved my goal and made her laugh, or even made her fellbetter(even if thoes moments where rare). My only wish is to removethis pain from her. To get her to see herself just the way I see her.Nobdy is perfect...or so I taught before I meet her. I looked up toher. I still do to be honest. I always want to protect her, sometimes I do it so much that I suffocate her. I can tell by the way sheacts, by the way she talks. But the simple taught of loosing her,makes me so scared. No. Scared is not powerfull enough. Scared is ausually used word. Nothing about her is usual. Nothing about herSHOULD be usual. Not even the words wich I use to describe her with. I was frightened of loosing her. I will do anything it takes to keepher, protect her, love her...SHE....is my everything. My sun. My moon. My joy. My sadness. K....she is my K.