He knew she was beautiful. 
Clearly, he could see. 
But her beauty is not all he saw. 
What he saw, made him stand out to her. 
What he saw, made himself in return, be seen. 
It made her look. 
She knew. 

He saw much deeper than the surface. 
He saw inside of her. 
The mystic that was her soul. 
The darkness that was her heart. 
The brilliance that was her mind. 
He knew that those other superficial things, 
That existed in their world,
Meant nothing to her. 

Somehow, nobody could really see her. 
Unless it was him. 
She was all alone. 
Unseen. But no, not to him. 
Only he had the eyes 
That had the power to see, 
Her visionary and gallivant spirit. 
The wandering and traveling force 
That was buried inside of her 
From the weight of 
All the things.  
She loved him for that. 

She loved him for the way that he could see her. 
Like nobody else could. 
He knew.