Adoration
She still liked him. After all these years, his hair now brown. Her vision no longer muddled by childish infatuation, she found that he was to be loved, but perhaps not liked. She realized his flaws, and she didn't like them. She wasn't sure. But a habit is hard to break.
The new one she was confused about. He was funny, he was quirky, he was smart and handsome and strong, but something – something – just felt wrong. He was shorter than she.
She mused, that one day, he would be the best choice. Smart, practical, nice and friendly, they talked together like age long friends. No one accepted him, though. She did not like him either. Well, that was what she told herself, anyways.
He was cynical, he was laughing. Far from the standard, he put her at ease. He wasn't skinny or perfect. She liked his jokes, his laughter. But he was mean. Cynical. Laughingly bitter. She didn't think she would fit him.
Short hair, and a sharp nose. That was what flashed in her mind when she first saw him, years ago. He was outlandish, he was odd, he was obsessive, he had crookedly good looks. The thought of spending 4 more years with him was nice.
The last, she hesitated to even contemplate. He had a facade of outrageousness and stupidity. But she saw a gentler side that she adored. She were from a similar mold, but the were not the same in the least.
She realized that things had become a whole lot more complicated.