Cassy.

She was beautiful, much more than words could express, so when the time came for my undying devotion to be written on paper, my brain went dead.1

Our English teacher had told us to write a descriptive paragraph about someone we admired - in the intimate sense. I had tried my best to focus on the real point here - getting a pass or my parents would be pissed - but my thoughts kept shifting back to Cassy, the fact that I actually did have a crush on her and she was who I wanted to write about, lest my heart burst from the pressure of containing the burning fervor I had for her. This was for her, and I had to find the write words to do so.2

I sat around my desk in my room, pencil in hand, paper in front of me, still blank except for my name, grade and date. My parents were not home. The evening was silent. In the last hour I had listened to every love song I could find on my iTunes, read the best romantic poems I could find and looked at Cassy's pictures on the internet over and over again.3

In the next hour I did nothing, nothing but stare at the blank paper, wondering, thinking, fighting for something. Once my hand actually wrote something. It was a T. I didn't even know what word that was. I erased it and continued meditating.4

'Think...' I told myself mentally, 'This is supposed to be easier than I thought. I'm making this hard on myself. Just write something, stupid! What can I write?'5

How was I supposed to define her beauty, bright enough to blind the sun? Her flowing curly hair could not be restricted to one colour. It was the most perfect shade of strawberry, orange, red, brown, such a composition of brilliant colours. It was like the sunset was reflecting on a waterfall of curls. Freckled beauty, so cute, so pleasant; she was. Glasses, so elegant, so quirky, they added the final touch to everything that made her shine. Her smile, was not painted, it was true, through the cracks of her life and its pain, it shimmered upon her face. Her eyes, pools of sparkling brown, it held the world within.6

She kept my entire world within those precious eyes.7

And beyond that delicate shell...There was a pearl that shone like a diamond. I could not express the blessing she was within. So full of life; she was my joy. To hear her laugh was like the song of my life, the one I could not get out of my head, that I turned to whenever I was sad. To see her cry...It was as if my heart was being flooded with her tears and I would burst at any moment with the pain that grew within me.8


The only word I could possibly find to define the intense feeling within me was love.9


The sound of my phone brought me back to reality. I checked it and it said low battery. I tossed it on the bed, miserable that it had broken me apart from my day dream. But then I remembered what I was doing and slapped my face in frustration.10

Of course.11

I sighed and placed the pencil upon the paper and began to write every thought of my affection, every feeling I could struggle to sew into words. I loved her. That drive, that passion, was what helped me write. It is the thought that maybe one day, somehow, she could read this, and although she may not love me back...12

Maybe, it could just make her smile.