He called her beautiful today. She'd simply responded with a thank you at the time but now her mind swiveled and swirled as she wondered how something could flow so simply from his mouth like the harsh melodies that spilled out of her headphones now as she sat on her unmade bed. She couldn't comprehend what he meant because after years of staring at her reflection, she had yet to feel that way about what stared back at her. She'd always felt quite the opposite actually. But the look he'd given her, she had wished to pick up all the diamonds that had fallen out of her eyes over the years and place them in his so he could stare at her brighter, even if that meant everything else would be dull. In that moment, nothing else mattered. She wondered if that was the moment in which she'd fallen in love or if it had happened before and now it had simply accounted for itself. Either way, her entire body trembled in fear as she thought of this feeling consuming her. She'd only ever grown up around hate and violence so when the complete opposite washed over her for someone who could rip out her entire soul if he ever desired, mass panic swelled up in her and overflowed in the form of tears, burning against her soft skin. They should have caressed her but she could not fathom, after years of denying it, that maybe love is real. So the idea burned her, burned away all the lies that had been fed to her and as the wounds raised in degrees, she laughed. The joyous sound burst through her chapped lips because she couldn't feel more stupid. She was running at top speed with an ache at every joint towards someone who was potentially going to destroy her and confirm everything she holds to be true. Humans are programmed to inflict pain. Yet, she didn't care. At least not until the day he messed up and she realized she wasn't beautiful at all. She'd simply been fed another lie down her dry throat. But now she did understand that she'd been wrong. Love isn't real at all. Only the idea of it, and it's and idea and a hope that has more power over us than anything in the cosmos. So when that hope escapes, forever blown away by the misery wind, never to be stared at in awe again, it can feel as if every atom in us explodes. So we go out in a blinding, amazing burst of light but rarely anyone wishes to stick around and clean up the mess. So we are left forever scattered, forever missing pieces, forever broken, and no one ever sees diamonds in us again.