Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder-

I sit here in front of the computer, feeling the pinpricks of beginning tears. My throat tightens. I swallow. A tear falls, leaving a wet path and drips off my chin. I touch my wet cheek, remembering the first time I cried for a boy.

I watched the runway fall away, leaving the ground of my first love. In a flash, my mind's eye went through everything that happened. My hand covered my mouth and I choked back a sob. "Why?" I begged. "Why?" But no answer came.

The tears came later, after I was home. Familarity of being back home numbed the pain, but as I lay on my bed, staring up at the silent ceiling, the hurt was overwhelming and the tears freely flowed. I told myself that nothing would ever hurt as bad as this. That was three years ago.

And I was wrong. The hurt that envelopes me now is far greater. Pain stabs again and again, leaving me helpless and weak.

Now, just back from church, I remember tasting the salty tears mixed with the water in the shower I just took. "Why must You torture me? Haven't You done enough to me? Please. I cannot take this anymore!"

I turn away when he comes near because when I see him, I break inside. Echoes of conversations we had in the past float across my mind, piercing the knife deeper within me and reminding me how much I have lost.

Your fault. It's all your fault, my conscience taunts me. Is it? my rational mind wonders. But it cannot be undone. Never.

I will forever regret this. He doesn't deserve me.

I don't deserve another chance.

Tears are dripping of my chin, soaking my shirt. I cannot stop.

the beauty exposed ;