At first I hated her. Her dimples were lopsided on one cheek to another, she had a capricious mood where she would shed quiet tears from time to time and then be happy again, she was an inch taller than me, and her eyes were grey.
But the more you become familiar with her, the more you start to find her romantic and magical.
Her imperfections make her seem raw and wanting to be loved, a vulnerability. She’s mysterious, and wants somebody to explore her, somebody who loves her more and more because that somebody finds her edges and imperfections so… perfect.
And the more you spend time with her, the more she opens up to you. She uncovers what you always loved – food, restaurants, energy, atmosphere, gorgeous skies, nightlife, districts, exotic languages, and her elegant body.
Her name was Lisbon, or Lisboa for what her friends called her. She offered everything, from lust to everlasting. Continue reading Lisbon, That Mysterious Girl in Class
