She will explore you in the way that only a lover of words knows how.
Savouring each delicious syllable of your name as it rolls lightly across her tongue.
Testing a hundred different adjectives to describe the exact shade of your eyes as they glimmer in autumn sunshine.
She caresses your skin with inky fingertips, like the well-loved pages of her favourite novel, committing to memory the way that your lips curve crookedly into a mischievous smile so that she can write it into existence any time she chooses.
She revels in every piece of you, noting every detail, mapping the terrain of you in her mind. She will make you feel like a spotlight is shone only on you, as she celebrates your uniqueness in the most elegant of prose.
She’s a different breed of creature.
On the days where the world can’t live up to her imaginings, she simply invents her own. She understands that creating something that has never existed before is as close to magic as we will ever get. Her wand is her pen and her spells burn brightly on yellowing parchment, bewitching you with beautiful illusions.
She will take you on journeys to far off lands where jewels sparkle against hot desert sand, and the stormy ocean guards the darkest secrets of the gods. She will teach you to be homesick for cities that you have never stepped foot in and to fall in love with faces you have never seen.
The fantasy she weaves is all encompassing. Be warned when she invites you to join her, you may never return, and if you do, you will never be the same again.
Let her show you it all. Let her world devour you.
If she loves you, you will never die.
She will give you the gift of a thousand lives through her stories, for one could never be enough to experience all that she wishes for you. You will recognise yourself immortalised on her pages for the world to revere; the traits that she adores in you built lovingly into her most treasured heroes.
Sometimes you will wish that you hadn’t hurt her. That you had behaved better and guarded her heart more valiantly. You will recognise the pain that you caused her spilling out onto the page like scalding crimson blood. You will know that her tears fell like rain, smudging the words as she wrote them with trembling hands.
But not every tale can be a joyful one, and she accepts that too. She understands that a villain is simply a soul whose story is yet to be heard.
Words run fiercely through her veins, pounding against her pale skin where all the stories of her life are written, desperate to escape. You are there, on the bookshelf of her love. Perhaps you were there from the beginning, weaved into the very fabric of her. Maybe you feature in a single a chapter only, closed firmly when your time is done. She’ll revisit you fondly in years to come, indulging in dusty memories that make her smile.
To be a part of her happy-ever-after, you have to enthral her. The day you stop trying, is the day she seeks out broader horizons. She has no time for a secondary character to dominate her precious days. Though she will treasure what you have been to her, she’s not afraid for your part in her story to end. She has new idols to create and new mysteries to explore out there.
Loving her won’t always be easy.
She will trail off mid-sentence as inspiration strikes her. If you are lucky, it will be something that you have told her, or shown her. Be her muse, and she will never forget you or the feelings that you inspire in her.
She will leave you of course; she can’t help it. Let her go. She will leave her heart safely with you as she dives down the rabbit hole into new adventures. She will come back to you, when she’s ready.
Watch her watching people, in cafes, on park benches, walking down the street. See her get lost in them. They are strangers to you and I, but to her they are characters to meet, to know, and potentially to love. For everyone has a story worth telling, if you care to look deep enough. And care she does.
Stocks and shares and profit margins have no place in her bubble. She wants to ride dragons and wrestle pirates for a living and that’s exactly what she does. She won’t sell out her passion for money, so she will never be wealthy. Yet, she considers herself rich, for she loves her calling, and that is worth more than gold in her eyes.
She will forget to eat, or call you, or brush her hair. You may have to gently steer her from her desk into your waiting arms, distracting her with a new anecdote from your day to see those curious eyes shining back at you with interest once again.
She is one of the only people you know, who can dream whilst wide-awake. Don’t let her lose that when the realities of life press heavy upon her. Sometimes her mind will be dark and horrors will pour from her. It might be hard for you to read those troubled thoughts that demand a voice. She will wake at 2am to capture the ideas that torment her and she won’t notice you pulling her gently back to bed, stroking her cheek and whispering to her in the shadows until she can sleep again.
Be patient if she talks about her characters like they are real. To her, they are. She loves them like her own family. She knows what they dream about, and the name of their childhood friends. If she cries because she just killed one of her darlings, hold her tightly. Kiss her tears away, and make her tea until her grief subsides.
She is an observer of the world, and you are the centre of hers. She cherishes every story you have ever told her. They have shaped her. She will scribe your name on the brightest part of her soul, a footnote to her existence. Long after you have both burned too intensely for this life, you will live on forever, through the power of her words.
