Star-Crossed

She was easily the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She was easily the prettiest girl most people had ever seen. She was flawed to the very bones, and oh so fragile. He watched her as she walked out of the building. Had he known this was the last time he would see her, perhaps he would have grabbed her by the arm. Perhaps he would have said all the horribly sincere and affection things that had long needed to be said. I love you, please don’t go. Come with me instead. You and I can be something extraordinary together, and I simply cannot bear to sit in the shadows and watch you struggle any longer. That sounded good. Perhaps that’s what he would have said. Had he known that was the last he would have seen of her perhaps he would have tried to enjoy the moment more. He would have took better note of exactly the way her body moved when she walked, or the exact shade of her blue eyes as they were looking away. Not that it wasn’t already cemented to memory.

Had he known, a million different scenarios were running through his head. It was too late though. He was always too late. The second she had crossed the threshold fate had shifted and she would never be his. The moment she locked eyes with the gent waiting outside, and she smiled, and it was easily the most genuine smile he had ever seen grace her features, he knew, he just knew, that was love. That was exactly what love was about and they were the kind of star-crossed lovers you see in the movies. She looked at him, not as if he put the stars in the sky, but as if he was the sky. As if he was the very embodiment of the vast expanse of wonder and beauty. Then the gentleman grabbed her hand, and they were gone from site, while he was left standing in the hallway, watching the empty doorway that had once been occupied by the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She was easily the prettiest girl most people had ever seen.