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To me he was beautiful. I could stare at him for ages and I could never get tired of the simplicity. His sad eyes forever stared back at me from the picture, his eyes so green and vibrant, so simple and lovely. There seemed to be a story imprinted in them and I wanted to see them for real, I wanted to read his story. I’ve read millions upon millions over the years I’ve been alive but never have I seen one so sad.

I first saw him in the park. I had grown tired of waiting on fate to bring him to me. I needed to see him now while I still lived. My illness was slowly eating my body. At first I was too shy to approach so I stayed back. I like to watch from afar, even if I couldn’t read those sad eyes from where I stood. Turns out, we didn’t live very far apart.

By the time I had the courage to talk to him my doctor said by the end of the month my illness would have eaten away my body. I told my mother I’d like to die before then. You know to save the illness the trouble.

“Hi.” I smiled as he turns to me. He just stared at me and I stared back. His eyes were so captivating. “I love your eyes.” He looked at me wryly his expression guarded suggesting he didn’t trust very easily. I wanted to say more, wanted to keep his attention on me, but then he’s friend showed up.

“Who’s this?” the friend asked, his eyes trailing over me. He must have disapproved of me because his face twisted in disgust. His eye’s told me he was the kind of person who judged a person before talking to them, not that I wasn’t use to it. Lots of guys were that way.

Seeing his friends face, the beauty turned away. “No one. Just an ugly girl. Come on lets go.”

I was crushed. I thought he was different. I thought he was above this. I guess not. I frowned.