When I first see her, I am behind her. She’s short, but not too short, and her skin looks like caramel. It’s smooth and it reminds me of warm brown sugar. But when she turns around, she’s become a warm cup of coffee. Light brown, with swirls of freshly poured cream that hasn’t yet been stirred. Even more beautiful than I could’ve imagined. At the first sight of her, I don’t know if I love her. But I know I’m interested in learning everything there is to know about her. And her, everything I’ll allow her to know about me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be capable of loving someone, but I know that she needs to love me.