But let me add, while we're on the subject of countenance, that there is a certain imperviousness to her persona that, now and then, shuts doors on strangers. Maybe it's the tilt of her chin, or the veneer that is completely devoid of self-consciousness; maybe it's the unflinching look she gives you right back; it could be all of the above.
Overall, it is the distance between her and those who remain outside her borders, that sustains the speculation.
To her friends, she is perfectly human. She constantly finds herself tormented by her own very high expectations of herself and the painfully keen eye for detail that she seems unable to dismiss when it comes to whatever it is that she's working on. The degree with which she finds fault in herself can come up to saddening heights. But the anxieties remain masked; she is the last person you should go talk to if you're in the mood for either wallowing in self-pity, or dullness, at that. She has this uncanny talent for digging deep, and keeping her own conflicts buried. A banter-cloaked monologue is the most you'll get; if you're lucky, she'll bare parts of her heart out. But always, the funny asides will be there; the laughter, too. Now, if only one could teach her a thing or two about allowing the deeply-buried ghosts to surface, maybe they'd stop haunting her in her dreams.
Her fierce steadfastness is something I'm sure her friends will attest to. No hour is too late and no madness too trivial--she will be there. She will listen and help in all the ways that she knows how. Her capacity for empathy is limitless. She might crack a joke, or two, besides, so you'll almost always end up minus some of the heaviness.
Do not be fooled. For all her lighthearted repartees, she is perfectly at home in cerebral conversations. You'd be surprised at her fascination with the metaphysical, her excursions into the artistic side of life, her theories on the subconscious, her musings on loneliness and hope and love. You might want to bring a pen, too. You just might find a metaphor sandwiched between her laughter and her stories.
The observer knows nothing of these, of course. She was named after the moon, after all, and she is just as mystifying--and radiant--after nightfall.
