She said what she wanted to say. Went where she wanted to go. Moving unconstrained with airs of simplicity, even though no one understood that. Few could comprehend her motivations, probably because they were pure or mostly so. Not everyone can handle freedom, she thought. Most just want the absence of responsibility. For freedom you must be willing to stand naked in your life, not letting it matter what the others might say. She wanted to be and let be. To embrace that which caught her attention and let go when it no longer served her heart. She lived all of this with the same ease that the moon turns the tide.
Yet, you remain. A disruption to the ocean. She still didn't know how to handle you. At times wishing you dead, so that the dream of you would be only that. When she awoke, drenched from wrestling the lover ghost of you, it might bring her to weep but at least it would no longer be the impossible waking hope.
In the light, she could remember who she was, know confidence, walk with purpose. Not wanting anyone, including you, to know the width and depth of her affection. When he looked at her, she saw him in equal measures. Hiding was not possible, their souls instantly, electrically entwined with each encounter. That smile around his lips, eyes never losing their trace. Piercing through to the whispers of her unveiled, raw, abandoned self that no one else seemed to see.
It is not easy to dissuade the heart. God does not care either way.