I remember the first time I saw her. No, that's cliché, everybody remembers the first meeting, the first time they saw their one true love. But this wasn't cliché, this was no ordinary love, not like in the movies, not like in the books. At least not any book I ever read. This was more like.. more like an obsession really.
From the first moment I knew, that there was something wrong, almost sick, about the way she made me feel. There was no fluttering butterflies, no scent of roses in the air and no tweeting birds to congratulate me on this new found feeling. This wild, burning sensation, like a high fever, that burned like acid and flames in my throat and chest, and made my palms sweaty and shaky and breathing shallow and unstable - this feeling wasn't normal, it wasn't right. It was.. unhealthy, and deep down I knew, from the very first moment, but buried it beneath glowing, pink clouds of love candy floss and bird song, that actually sounded more like warning screams.
It was a cool, frostbitten night first in December - the 7th to be more accurate, and she was walking in front of me on the pavement. I don't think she noticed my presence, cause she was singing in a low, whispery voice, that even though it was muffled slightly by her lips, sounded like tiny silver bells in a light summer breeze. No, no, that's cliché too, isn't it? It can't be cliché, it just can't, because it wasn't cliché, it really wasn't, do you understand? Ok then, strike the thing about silver bells, and let's move on.
As I said, I don't think she even noticed me, but I noticed her in a heartbeat. There was something about the way she walked, something incredibly elegant and almost soaring, about the way her tiny high heels barely touched the frosty pavement. Oh and her calves, they were as white and smooth and pure as the snow falling from the star covered night sky, and they seemed to shine with a silvery glow, that could outshine the moon itself at anytime.
And then suddenly, the magic was broken, cause she turned right at a junction, and my feet wanted to follow her, but I had to go left, because that was where I lift, though I couldn't imagine ever feeling at home again, without her presence.