She sat there with a lonely visage on her painted landscape. Hers was small- delicate with two perfectly parallel sides. It had two rosy hills and bronzed, shallow valleys that held up her big and brown polluted skies. Had a map maker sat there to create this? If so, he edges of this map were soft and rounded, as if the mapper had sat there for hours to create the perfect seam.

In this moment her polluted eyes blinked and glanced once again at the door. Her stomach was churning. To keep her mind off of this she took her small, delicate hands with perfect, shiny nails and used them to smooth out her silk pink-rose and cream colored dress.

I smiled and reminded her that she is beautiful… But those lonely eyes were lonely as she smiled back and thanked me. She played with the green straw in her strawberry smoothie that I had bought her. Did she not find herself beautiful? No, because he did not tell her that she is, no matter how much she wanted him to. Is that why neither he nor I can love her?