What you don’t know is...

She has her own sun shining above her head and some flowers only bloom when she passes by.

You don’t know everyone, in every room, can’t help but laugh at her jokes. Because you were too busy to notice.

You also don’t know her heartbeats sound like thunder, and music, and joy altogether.

When she speaks you can catch in her eyes a touch of unique passion nobody else can imagine to embody. What is like to be her, and to have taken books and built yourself around them. What is like to have been born to just wonder, and analyse, and study. And understand.

She gives when no one asks, and she’s always the first to reach out.

What you don’t know is no one ever is going to be deserving of her. Of course not you.