“What is wanted is not the will to believe, but the will to find out, which is the exact opposite.”
― Bertrand Russell
She was art. The type of art that makes you feel a thousand things at the same time. The type of art that everyone wants to see. Her smile more worth than a Picasso. Eyes gorgeous like the starry night. My Mona Lisa. She was my personal gallery.
I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.