When we were sophomores, we had this bullshit class called seminar together. It counted for health and speech credits, and it was mandatory. I'm sure you remember, but the idea was a classroom full of students talking about their future careers, filling out job applications, sex ed, etc. Anyway, we had this PowerPoint project where we had to take a picture of ourselves from when we were kids and explain how we grew up and what decisions we've made and all that sort of stuff.
I've known you my whole life, and I knew you were faking it for a grade, but everyone who hadn't known you saw this picture of you taken when you were like nine or something and they all gasped. They had no idea how a girl with a unibrow and an overbite and childish pigtails could possibly grow into the beautiful creature standing in front of them. You were dignified, or indifferent, because I can't tell with you sometimes, and ignored the remarks and giggles they threw your way.
The thing is, though, you've never, ever been ugly. In fact, you have always been the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I really liked that no one else had noticed. It was like your beauty was a secret and only I knew. I felt the same way about your soul, too.
You're poetry. I don't mean that in a cheesy way. Actually, I'm crying, but only because I'm going to miss you so much. That's pathetic, though, because you never took any note of me whatsoever. I actually miss you punching me, but I'll write to you about that later.
I'm sort of rambling, but, anyway, this is the first reason why I love you. You're beautiful everywhere and always have been. I'm so, so, sorry that a certain boy didn't see that.