He fell in love with the thought of her.

He fell in love with her gossamer hair and her quicksilver smile, he fell in love with the words that she threw like lightning. He fell in love with the idea of holding such a beautiful, fragile thing, and he fell in love with the idea of moonlight dances and violent storms.

He fell so much in love with the thought of her that he forgot who she really was.

He forgot about her insecurities, the way she talked too much and the way she chewed her nails. He forgot about how she cracked her knuckles and her obsession with old TV shows. He forgot about her hatred of cooking and the way she’d stare out the window so fiercely only to turn away from his touch. He forgot about her passions, her love of life and her desire to change the world. 

In the end, he thought she was nothing more than a girl that needed saving, and he forgot that he was not her hero and she was never a damsel in distress.

He forgot that she was only human, and that she loved him as only a human could — imperfectly, but with all her heart.

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