I don't think anyone could truly measure her.
Her hair curled at the edges, never neat, never careless,just alive.
Her brown eyes didn't look at the world. They watched it, quietly deciding what was worth noticing, what wasn't.
She was small, yes, but every movement carried a weight that made the air around her still.
Her skin caught the light differently not to show off, just to remind the world she existed.
Her lips… soft, unassuming, but the curve of them could hold entire conversations without a single word spoken.
And I… I have noticed all of it.
Every little flicker of her presence has rooted itself in me, deeper than I care to admit.
From the first time I saw her, I wanted to know her, not just her name, not just her smile, but everything she carried inside herself.
Every time she passed by, every quiet glance, every shadow she left behind in the spaces I walked…
I felt it, even when I didn't understand it.
A pull I can't resist, a longing I can't speak aloud.
I want to know her, Maham.
Not in pieces, not in fragments, not just as someone I admire from afar…
I want to know the thoughts she hides, the laughter she saves for herself, the small sorrows she never shares.
I want to be the one who understands her when the world doesn't.
Even now, I feel her presence like a quiet storm unseen, unclaimed, impossible to ignore.
And maybe that is what makes her… unforgettable.