Sometimes I wished I knew of love, paid more attention to the stories my mother told me about star crossed lovers and how they would know about their destined connection. My mother was a day dreamer, a woman who always lived in a story, romanticizing her life in the most charming way ever. She had those starry eyes, her sleepy smile and her long hair, waving in the summer breeze made her look like a princess. The pure kind, the one who awaits in their tower to meet their prince, the one who would rescue them. She loved my father, desperately so. A strong man with rough palms from working too hard. He looked cold and distant, the unwavering figure of a leader that everyone respected but also feared.
He loved her though, the way he looked at her, his eyes turning tender at her presence. His rough hands offered her the most gentle touches and his words were always careful with her. Who wouldn't love a woman like my mother, so perfect, so angel like?
