“You’re the kind of girl I want to have conversations with.” He said plainly.
And she was.
Her words were often fragments of her favorite musicals, and quotes from books you wanted to read because she had.
She put a tune to every quote by Jane Austin and sang them on long car trips.
She flat out refused to use to slang terms because it was “slaughtering the English language even more than we already have.”
She discussed the “wonderland weather” and the lost art of letter writing.
She went on long rants about Harry Potter and often switched to a British dialect when she became invested in making her point.
She spoke using words that you had never imaged even existed.
She was the kind of girl you wanted to conversations with.
Perfectly Imperfect Me 