You may find it weird or even disgusting and truly unbecoming for a young girl like me...
...but I love him.
Him and his magnificent curls.
Those wild unruly pepper-and-salt ringlets that fall so messily and oh so adorably over his forehead and eyes when he's frustrated or have been indulging in any kind of exercise.
Oh, you know what exercise I mean...
Or maybe you don't...
Anyway, where was I?
Ah, yes, his curls!
He tries to tame them, from time to time, you know.
With his brush, hands or - on one memorable occasion - headband.
But they break loose almost instantly, leaving him frustrated but secretly happy.
Because no matter how messy they get - he loves them that way.
As I do.
It's just such a perfect image of who he is himself, really.
Wild and soft and just a little bit feral.
There's one special curl I like to wind around my finger.
It's white completely, unlike all the rest.
And there's something endearing about it.
Sure, with time, they all will go white, but this one...
...the first one...
...will always be special.