She doesn't have to say a word, her eyes tell her story. If her story were to be told with lips it would be a faint whisper on a summer afternoon breeze with an ever so slight smile behind it daring someone to listen, yet assuming the listener would turn away.

The story is of hurt and happiness, failure and guilt, triumph and the quiet smile of hope that endures. The story has been in her eyes ever since she was born. To most it's unwanted subtext in the subliminal backdrop of their busy lives. Few are aware of it and of them only one knows the story well. If you took the time to look closely this is the story her eyes would tell:

I don't know you. I really like you but I don't think you'll like me. I hope you'll appreciate me, but I'm sure you'll find some reason to disengage from the possibilities. I hope you will like me and don't dismiss the friendship before it begins. It isn't like you'd be the first to walk away using kind words to release yourself without guilt so you can find someone more interesting, and I don't blame you, but it still hurts.

Why do some people make friends with everyone they meet? It seems to be so easy for them. It must be something I'm lacking, or haven't learned, or I'm not attractive enough to hold your interest. I hope you'll like me for who I am rather than pretend to like me because you want something.

I like people. That's why this little dance is so difficult. If I didn't need acceptance of others things would be simple. I would be less vulnerable. I would love to be indifferent, but I can't.

So I'm stuck here liking you hoping you will like me and I ask myself every time: Why? And every time there's no reason why I like you. I just do.

I don't fight it anymore. It's the waltz of my life so I'll take the next step and hope you'll take it with me because I like you and I want you to like me. Maybe we can dance for a while or maybe just take a few steps before I walk on your feet. I don't mind if the dance is short, at least I had the moment. I won't forget you even if you forget me. I've had countless dances that were too short, but here I go again. Will you dance with me?

In an ever so sweet tone that's what her eyes have said to everyone she's met, most have missed it, but it's still whispered to everyone without a word.