The first time you looked at me, it was with hatred in your eyes.
You said I was loud, annoying, brash, that I spoke before I thought.
You were right.
The hatred did not disappear from your eyes for a very long time,. It was still there the second time we met, but we were older, and some things might have changed.
Maybe I did.
Maybe you did.
We will never know.
It’s interesting to look back at all the years we’ve been through together. Sometimes I think about our beginnings, and I actually have to laugh. We could have been fast friends, you and I, if we had just allowed ourselves to look at each other properly. But youth and prejudice and eagerness to please made us both blind, it seems.
We discovered that we weren’t that different at all, and the hatred in your eyes was replaced by curiosity, and friendliness, and soon after that, by laughter.
Your mouth doesn’t always laugh or smile, but your eyes do, whenever your heart does. I could see it from the very beginning; it just took me ages to realise that I could.
Now I see the world in your eyes. The universe exists in them; it’s where shooting stars are born and flowers bloom. I cannot stop staring at them, they are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Your whole face could change, the colour and shape of your eyes could be altered, and I would still be able to recognise you by the way you look at me.
No one has ever looked at me like this, outside of family.
As if I wasn’t just a nuisance.
As if I was worth something. Meaningful.
Loved.
Please never look away.