Who Links Here

We walked down the street, her almost constantly running ahead to the next street light and waiting for me to catch up. We talked as we went, about everything and nothing and all points in between. When we reached the end of the street I turned to her, her eyes reflecting the glow of the street lights, hair blown back by the wind. I turned to her and told her how beautiful I thought she was. She blushed as she turned away.

I turned around, putting my back to the fence and slid to the ground. She turned back to where I was, noticed I had moved to the ground, and sat down beside me. She dug into my backpack, which was sitting between us, and pulled out a notebook. She reached over and grabbed a pen from my pocket and quickly began scribbling. When I tried to look she would turn it from me.

After a few moments in silence, she handed the notebook back to me. Her words, written at jagged angles and in random patterns, changed my perspective.

You say I am beautiful. But outer beauty doesn't afford us much more than a certain amount of ease in this world. It is the beauty of the person inside that will matter in the end. People wait until someone is gone or taken from them to talk about the good things. Instead I am saying it now. You are one of the most beautiful souls I've ever met, but you keep hiding behind certain pretenses and you won't let anyone know the real you.

I flip to the next page in the notebook and begin writing something of my own. A few simple words from the depths of my beautiful soul.

People fear what they do not understand.