All of a sudden

I'm yearning for Unexpected Kindness again.

She's returning soon; homecoming queen. I want to see her; I will, in around a week. I want to go on holiday with her; I am going tomorrow, though not with her. I could go at the end of the month.

She is beautiful, in her way, but more than that, she desperately needs someone to tell her that she is. I don't think that anyone has told her. It's a strange thing. I know that I will probably always be beautiful to my mother (or accepted, at least). She might worry about my being accepted in the world for my face and my size, but I don't think that she would concretely call me ugly. UK's Mum has, directly or indirectly, and worse. I don't think that people do tell her, no holds barred, that she is lovely. They probably say, 'you'd look lovely if...'. It must make you someone else, if you are being told that you are not good enough directly. It was hinted at, in our house, directed at my physical form, but there were always redeeming characteristics. I don't know that UK's were ever paramount. I would like to tell her, 'you look lovely'. She's lovely because she's awkward when she's nervous and she's sweet when you don't think she will be, because you think she's forgotten and then there's this beautiful unexpected nudge. Because she's so shy of her own body and yet so present in it. Because she's ferocious in her approach to mask all of those vulnerabilities. Because she's bright, and she works hard. Because of the way she glances up from textbooks over her glasses. Because of the way her teeth are set against her lip. Because.