Since the moment I’ve met you, you’ve stood out from other girls, whether they be blond, natural or dyed, brunette, black or red. I could go on and on about your eyes, enigmatic pools that entrance, or the endearing way your hair is cut, which some(you know the type) might call butch, but I call… you. Or about your face, beautiful with or without glasses, beautiful in spite, (or because) of the fact that its not flawless. I could even go on about… wait. Those things seem less important than your laugh, your sense of humor, your smile, your intelligence, or the kindness, warmth, and patience in you. Should I go on? I’ve made my point. You’re special, to me and many others.