I once met a girl who was just like me. She spoke every word that came to her mind and she spoke it like it was the most important word she would ever speak. Mostly they were irrelevancies and oddities, and some were lofty, grand things. It was all so big, so fanciful, almost childlike. And as she spoke I saw myself for the first time, and I saw why it was so hard for him to love me. But as she rested her head against my knee and spoke all her lovely words, I allowed myself to fall completely in love with her. Then I closed my eyes, ran my fingers through her black hair, and simply listened.