[2004-12-07]_5:27 p.m.
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Part 1.
She had an invisible beauty about her, a beauty that attracted only people who could really see. Her demeanor was quiet and defeated, it was obvious her past was haunted by nightmares and monsters. More often than not, she could be found sitting quietly, eyes down, small sighs escaping from her lips, in silent contemplation. She was often lost in herself, caught in a net of thoughts. Her intellegence was much like her demeanor, unobtrusive and self contained. She hated being probed or analyzed. She detested explaining herself to others. She was a self proclaimed existentialist and postmodernist, Life had no meaning, not that it bothered her. She hated philosophizing; it made life seem deeper than it really was. She smoked clove cigarettes and dreamt of being a writer, but she had no ambition. She was mostly small: her hips were small, hre breasts were small, her hands were small. But her eyes, her eyes and her lips, were the exceptions. Her eyes were as big and as deark as eclipsed moons. They were usually unexpressive and unwelcoming, although they hadn;t always been. Years before, her eyes were magnetic, drawing everyone to her, They used to be bright, imaginative eager. But society had jaded her, stifiling her belief in the good of all people, and that there was something to hope for. This did not depress her, instead, she had come to accept it. But her lips and smile still had some hope left. Her lips were big; they were a dark rasberry color and plump. Her lower lip was larger; it almost looked permently swollen. Maybe thats because she was always biting it in extreme concentration. Her smile was not that beautiful, it was plain. Her teeth were not bleach white or perfectly straight. But her ssmile could melt people, only because it was rarely seen, and rarity is a form of beauty. Her hair was dark like her eyes, thought that was not its true color, even she could not remember her natural hair color. It was long and kind of curly, kind of wavy. It was never brushed, she liked to let it be free. She thought she was plain, looked plain and thought plain. She went to school, participated in a few clubs and spent time with a small group of friends. She was content, but not happy.
He was young, but had an old soul, or so he had been told. But he acted young. He drank, smoked, and was permiscuous. His mind may have been mature, but not his actions. Although he knew his actions were wrong, his philosophy on life let him ignore his conscience. He was intelligent, but not perceptive, and he flauted his intelligence. He was personable, friendly and very likable. He wore his hair long and dreamt of being born in the sixties. He overanalyzed and was always looking for a deeper meaning and connection. His philosophies were many and broad. He was idealistic and wanted to change the world. His family was stable, he had never gone through a negative life experience. he was in a band and like eastern philosophy, He did not truly believe in mogonomy, but instead loving everyone. He never had a serious relationship, just dissassociative relaations with friends and strangers. Although some of his outlooks on life were skewed, he was generaly a nice guy. He got lots of attention from girls anf her knew he was handsome, although he was not really cocky about it. He was fair skinned, tall and practically emaciated. Although skinny, he was tough and in shape from ice-hockey. his hair was dirty blond, almost to his shoulders and curly. His eyes were blue, warm and inviting, deep and thoughtful. He liked people and people liked him. He was happy and enjoyed life, but he was constantly changing.
They were polar oppisites.
You could call this a love story, but its not. It's a story about souls and about lives. it's a story about two people you have probably already met. it may be a story about yourself. It may be plain, but its real. its not exciting, no one dies, but people are saved. Not in the i've-been-kidnapped-and-
my-captor-is-about-to-kill-me saved, but in the quiet way that the rest of the world can't see saved. its the truth, because it is the story about myself.