The sunlight reflecting off her chocolate hair gave it a hint of gold; natural highlights that she despised. He lifted a hand and brushed her hair out of her face, and as she smiled, leaned in and lightly kissed her forehead. “You’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, and she couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re going to be late, though. Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked. She agreed, and they parted with outstretched hands and airborne kisses, like they always did; grasping for each other as they walked each step in opposite directions. She, headed for home before she was discovered to not be in her room, and he, to places she’d never even think he would be going. He never quite knew how observant she was. He never knew she realized that a different song played when he was on the phone or when he just didn’t hear it ring, and his shower excuse soon became as flimsy as his grasp on her hand as she turned to leave. She began averting her eyes when he tried to look into them, even though he never read her as well as he prided himself on being able to, while her mind brewed feverishly with ideas under her composed exterior. Her eyes became dull as she began to accept what she knew to be true, and she lost a little piece of herself every time he told her he loved her. It never rang quite true. The resounding echo always carried an off-key note, while the perfume lingered in the air, never smelling quite as sweet to her as to him. They smiled, they laughed, but the connection they had was lost. She saw it through, denying it to others, and analyzing every sentence, every word, every syllable he uttered. She saw it in his accented goodbyes when he would hang up the phone because she was going to bed and he was … not tired yet. They never recaptured that glow they used to emit, the puppy-love period they had not even begun to tap. Often, friends would blink twice when seeing them together, forgetting they were a couple, and whisper furiously behind turned backs; behind her back. Slowly, while she saw her life crumbling but relinquished her ability to care, her hair lost the shine achieved with sun, and she became grateful. Misrepresentation grew tiring, and the dismal smile never quite matched the glittering hair. Actions became mechanical, and the love made was never quite love, nor had it ever been. Her sense of living through this deteriorated, leaving her with a sense of inadequacy and loneliness. She stayed. Her reason was simple, although nobody understood her logic. She stayed because she was happier living a lie than she would have been facing the truth.

3 clever lines | unread on clever napkins