The Story

The Story

You made me. One minute, I was just an idea, ruminating in your subconscious, and the next, there I was. The young me, the shorter me; living in stark black on the infinite white of your computer screen. You knew I had flaws, but said we would fix them together. We did. I loved the new me, and so did you.

I cherished the time we spent, just us, talking out our problems. Mine were easier to fix than yours. You began looking at me differently, once all my imperfections were fixed. You started looking at me like I was beautiful, and smiled when you came to see me. You brought me places; your friends and family loved me. They passed me around, leaving their fingerprints where only yours had been before, but that was okay; you still looked at me with love, when we were alone. You would always protect me. Your friend made a suggestion on how to improve me, and you took the advice. You made me better.

You entered me into some sort of beauty contest. You were unsure at first. I could see the fear and uncertainty in your eyes, when we were alone. I tried to tell you it would be fine, but you never listened. I won almost all the awards for you. You dwelled on the ones I lost. Your dwelling upset you. You started to visit me more, but something had changed, you looked at me differently. The love and devotion in your eyes was subdued, pushed aside by a new, lustful, ugly look.

You were taking me for granted, and acting like you owned me. You started to email me places. I wanted to stay with you, but you thought it was for the best. When the places I was sent emailed you back, their letters always began with, ‘We regret to inform you,’ you didn’t like that. You fixed me some more, and emailed me to other places. So many. The eyes that viewed me, brown, blue, black, gray, green, bespectacled or through contact lenses. I tried to look pretty for you. They would call me things like ‘typical,’ or ‘done to death,’ or say I ‘started off strong,’ whatever that means.

More regretful replies came, and you got more upset. You didn’t like all these people saying I ‘wasn’t a good fit for them,’ maybe they weren’t a good fit for me! You started to visit less and less. You overlooked my true beauty. You left me here, alone. I know you’ll come back one day, and your eyes will hold the love and devotion I saw in them when we first met. I know you still love me; I’ll see you soon.