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Freshman year, I took a picture of my best friend. I was and still remain extremely proud of myself for capturing such a perfect moment. There was something intriguing about it; the reflection of such a beautiful girl could instantly capture any person's interest [with ease and grace].
Freshman year, I took a picture of my best friend. The beauty of it's entirety was almost breathtaking, but there was something [not] there that only I would notice. She was my best friend, and I knew every aspect of her personality and overall being that there was. What wasn't there in that photo, and what will never be there, are the things I love most about her.
This picture could not leave the lasting sound of her [contagious] laughter, let alone the other 6 she has kept inside. It could never allow anyone to inhale her striking vanilla scent or examine thoroughly her strut-like walk. Behind the black and white, you'd never notice the colorful aura she presents or her ability to light up a room with it.
Freshman year, I took a picture of my best friend.
Today, I took pictures with my best friend on her 17th Birthday. I'd like to tell you that things have changed between us since the creation of my masterpiece, but they haven't. That's the way I intend to keep it.
Happy 17th Birthday, Jessica.
I love you.