I knew her. And everything about her. Every tacit gesture, every unsaid word and every nervous twitch. I knew all the masks she wore. I knew their maker. I knew every muscle in her body and how they would look in every light. I knew her steely resolve and her fragile heart. I knew the softness of her smile and the twinkle in her eye. I knew her silent sob and the sight of her mascara running down her cheek. I knew how beautiful she was and how much more she will be. She knew.
Someone else knows her now. And I lurk, unknown, in the shadows waiting to be found by someone.
