Kirby

    Short blonde hair falls in front of deep hazel eyes. Yes, hazel. How could I forget? Her sweet smile, the kind of smile that just makes you say "Yes." Even if you don't know the question. She sits next to me while my littel brother antagonizes her mercilessly. And she sits smiling and playing along, although I just want to tie him in a bag and put him in the closet. Watching her play with him makes something inside  me grow warm. A feeling so deep and so overwhelming it's impossible to describe. Kind of like a giant bear hug, chicken noodle soup on a cold day, kiss on your boo-boo from Mom feeling. She makes me so happy. My day can be ruined and I'm at the end of my rope. I've tried everything and I just want to be alone. Then, she gives me that small smile, the smile reserved just for me, and looks in my eyes. "What's wrong?" She asks.
    I try to fight it. Try to stay stubborn. "Nothing." I answer.
    "Liar." She gives me a 'stern' look. The kind of look that makes you want to act scared just to make her feel good because she looks so darn cute. "Just tell me."
    And I have to. Like magic, I'll open my mouth to say, "No, it's no big deal." And whatever's bugging me comes pouring out instead. She sits through it all, looking so concerned and caring, even if it's the stupidest thing in the world. And at the end there's the hug. If I could describe her hug, I guess it would be somthing like...a puppy dog kiss, a baby kitten playing with a ball of yarn, a little baby grabbing your finger, a warm Texas night under the stars by the lake in the back of a pick-up. You know, the kind of stuff that makes your heart laugh out loud with happiness.
    She is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. A huge blessing God put into my life at just the right time. Wings, she has angels wings I swear. She flew down in to my pit, my giant self-made pit and grabbed my hand. Pulled me out with a strong powerful love I could never have imagined. She accepts me for who I am. With all the bumps and bruises, all the cracks and chips.
    And I love her too. More than I can explain, more than I can describe. I'm a writer, words are my tools. I can use words to send you anywhere in the world. But I can't describe the feelings I have for her. It's something you can only understand once you've experienced it. I would do anything for her. I don't know how to tell her that, but it's true. I would swing through a burning hoop of fire, stand through a hundred firing squads, cut off my right arm, and yes even give up my side of the bed. I love her, though thick and thin.