She was the kind of girl that had a lot of love to give. Not because she had been treated well or because pain hadn’t stolen it from her. In other cases love may not have been possible because it wasn’t something she learned. But nonetheless she managed to learn from her pain and projected that into a love unlike what was given to her, even if imperfectly. Sometimes her face forgot to display what was in her heart. But I saw it in her eyes. I could see what others couldn’t. I saw who she was. I saw love.