The Impossible Girl

I am not really a grandiose type of guy. Some do the big things, and that is perfectly fine, but I do not. I am a quiet type by and large. I keep to myself, and my small displays of affection are generally private. I don’t make public displays, unless the are to be funny, and I do not generally show a lot of emotion.  Today though, today I shall do something a little bit different. It will be a bit uncomfortable, but it’s worth it. When you have met the impossible girl, the world should know somehow. If you do not care for Doctor Who, you won’t get most of this. If you don’t like mushy displays of affection, you won’t want to read further. If however you want to know a small part of the greatest love story never told…well, read on.
I guess the first thing that you need to know about her, is that I am pretty convinced she was born to save me. I’m not sure if it was on a leaf, but I am convinced it was to save me. Since coming into my life, she has been imprinted upon my past as well. There is nothing I can look back upon that somehow is not through her eyes. It’s strange of course, but that is the way it is. She knows how clever I am, but what’s more important is that she knows how clever she is too. She doesn’t disrespect what I know of course, but never once does she let me slip by on what I know in favor of what I could learn. Never once does she fail to challenge me with her own cleverness.   A mystery wrapped in a enigma, squeezed into a skirt that’s just a little bit too tight…well not the last bit terribly often but the first bit to be sure.
She makes me laugh and cry. We bicker and make up. Things are often pushed to their limits…and then we find new ones. She is my proper friend which is why it is that we will survive until the end, or until she’s an old woman, whichever comes first. (If you know Mary, and/or  Doctor Who, that was an incredibly sweet thing for me to say.)
She will tell me off, because let’s face it, sometimes we all need it. She made me realize that sometimes things really are bigger on the inside. There’s much more inside me than I knew after all.
She once asked “Is there a word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and just a tiny bit sexy?” somehow not knowing that the answer was ‘Mary’.  Really, the most descriptive thing that I can say about here is “She’s not possible!” Yet here she is.
She’s Wendy forever sewing on shadows and waiting for a kiss, yet forever settling on thimbles without complaint. She’s the only person to travel to the second start on the right with, and somehow is both the journey and the destination. She is not the face that launched ships, just the face that brought mine home.
So this Valentines day, she won’t get flowers or chocolates. No romantic cards, and not even a rom-com since the Olympics are on. Nothing much, just me. She’s the impossible girl because that is ok. She’ll keep telling me “Run … run, you clever boy … and remember.” All I can do is hope that at the end, Ill be able to say: “I’ll be keeping you safe. One last victory. Allow me that. Give me that, my impossible girl.”

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