When I first looked at her, the world seemed to be a spectrum of lights and colors. It shimmered softly, like morning mist, only to blaze with the fire of a storm the next.
When I looked at her for the first time, the world seemed to turn into a spectrum of lights and colours. It shimmered with gentleness, like morning mist, only to burst into the fire of a storm moments later. Her duality frightened me—and drew me in all the same. Her fragility and wildness, her sweetness and astringency, her warmth and roughness—two worlds that only she could name. I could not.
She was a phenomenon to me…
When she walked, her body screamed: I belong to myself.
When she smiled, night turned into day, and fears dissolved into tiny, invisible shadows. As if all the darkness of the world retreated before her gaze. And when she spoke, only tenderness flowed from her lips.
And then, in a single moment, she would change into the other one—the one I perhaps loved even more. She would stand at the edge of a cliff, on the roof of her tiny world, and darken, disappear… All the beauty she had been just moments before transformed into fear, into uncertainty. And she would say: I got lost along the way, but that’s okay—I’m a super girl, and super girls don’t cry…
And she didn’t cry. Never in front of me. Always in hiding, so no one would see her fragility.
Today, when I return to her in my thoughts, her nature reminds me of white tea—pure, exquisitely subtle, yet hiding an entire depth of unexpected notes within. My super girl was exactly like that. Like Pai Mu Tan, known as White Peony: a tea whose delicate flavour is not weakness, but noble essence. It carries a natural sweetness that needs no additions to enchant. A sweetness that is not obvious, flowing straight from the heart, like an elixir of youth and love.
As I write this—am I still writing about tea, or about that girl?
Does it really matter? Their ethereality and strength are so alike that I want to think of them as one. I turn on the music, brew a pot of tea, and quite simply—everything feels right. Just right…
My Super Girl and my white tea. In both of them, fire lies in wait.
As if among the white tea leaves someone had scattered calendula petals—those tiny, orange sparks of the sun that can brighten the infusion, but also remind you of the fire burning within. It was this calendula heat that made her capable of rage, of pushing me away and telling me to leave. Just as calendula breaks the subtlety of white tea, her temperament broke through her delicacy.
The aromas of peach and pineapple are another story altogether—a story of her lightness. She, too, could be fruity—fresh and unpredictable. Sweet like a peach when she laughed carefreely, and at other times juicy and sharp on the tongue like pineapple. Then she would leap straight into the night and return late, unfazed, as if she were still soaring above the city rooftops—because after all, super girls just fly.
She was fragile like glass then, with a fading flame glowing in her eyes. She disappeared because she needed to be alone—she craved space, wind in her wings, and calm in her heart. She returned because she wanted closeness again, even if it was only a squeeze of the hand or a quiet, peaceful sleep. With no questions, no words—just being.
Today I know this: her duality was her balance.
She was and is a super girl because she is light and shadow. She is a super girl because she loves her darkness and shapes her courage from her falls. She is a super girl because she burns without fear, and at dawn is reborn and seduces anew. She is a super girl who screams for you to leave, while her eyes are still full of untamed tenderness. She is a super girl who, like Pai Mu Tan—subtle and bright at first—grows more intense with every second, until you finally discover that within this delicacy lies the love of the entire boundless Universe.
This is her nature—contradictory, dark, fiery, full of sweetness and wildness.
Aromatic like the rarest tea, and unpredictable like the Super Girl blend.
This is a tea for those who draw strength from departures and returns.
This is a tea for those who love freedom, but are not afraid of love.
This is a tea for those whose strength is delicacy.
And finally—this is a tea for those who once loved a girl like her. For those who longed to be such a girl, and for those who admired women like her from afar, because her beauty intimidated and captivated all at once.
May our Super Girl blend take hold of you just as powerfully—because it is worth every moment of wonder, every sigh, every glance…