I don't mind spending every day
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay a while
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
– Maroon 5, She Will Be Loved
He notices her very early on, as a strange girl, quiet and sad. The others glance her way, but their eyes never lingers too long, for there is something about her, something so solemn and lonely and strong, that they fear her and love her a little for it. But they'll never get close. Not ever.
As the seasons change and so do they, growing and becoming more than they are, the girl grows ever more lovely. She is beautiful, this girl. It is a terrible beauty, glorious and sweet, because as lovely as she is, no one has ever seen her smile. The thought comes into his head, like a whisper, a tiny hope: 'I wonder if I could make her smile.'
As they grow, so does that whisper, as a see becomes a mighty oak. She is just as beautiful, and just as sad, and just as lonely and lovely as ever. And now, he can't get her out of his head, and the thought has become: 'I wish I could make her smile.'
His wonder grows, and he begins to question, to pry into the life of this mysterious, beautiful, sad-eyed girl. He tracks down every rumor (and in this school, there are many) and he listens to them all: She's an orphan; she's dying of some terrible disease; she's a witch; she's a lost princess from a faraway land; she's mute; she's filthy rich; she owns a mansion out in the countryside, gifted to her by a mysterious old professor; she rejects all suitors because she loves a dead man; she loves lions, and draws them every day in her sketchbook; she is extremely religious, and goes to confession every Sunday, as though the guilt of some unknown deed weighs on her soul.
So many stories and more, and he cannot decide which rings most of truth. That she's an orphan, he knows; on family day, no one ever comes for her, and she always seems most wistful. He doesn't think she's dying (no more than anyone else, he muses) nor does he thinks she's a witch, but for all that it's silly beyond belief, he can't help feel that she's the most glorious princess he's ever seen. The rest grow stranger and stranger, until his mind is spinning, and he thinks that maybe, he's in over his head. But he no longer tries to get her out of it, and now he thinks: 'I need to make her smile.'
But she's just so beautiful, and solemn, and sad, that he can never seem to work up the urge to speak to her. He watches her, everywhere he can, and tries. He thinks, despairing: 'I will never make her smile.'
At last, it is the day of their graduation. After today, he will never see her ever again, he'll never have another chance to speak, another chance (his heart whispers) to make her smile. He feels jaunty and desperate and hopeful and scared, and in one last push of sheer bravery, he walks up to her, and speaks:
"So, what do you plan to do after we graduate?"
Immediately he feels a little foolish, but she looks up silently, favoring him with a rather puzzled glance, and the rush of acknowledgment gives him the courage to rush on, hoping he's not making a total fool of himself.
"Well, what ever it is, I wish you luck in it."
Then the impossible, the beautiful happens. The girl, the princess, the gentle Queen who has dominated his thoughts and his heart for most of his young life looks at him, really looks at him...
And she smiles.
It is the most beautiful, glorious, truly happy smile he's ever seen.
And his heart breaks.
"Thank you," she says, ever so softly, gently. He leaves soon after that, shaken and mysteriously sad, as if the contradiction of her sad happiness has shattered some barrier in his heart that he never knew. Suddenly he loves her more than ever, and he turns back, running, trying to find her before it's too late. But she's already left the celebration, and he tries to calm his sudden sense of foreboding, turning back to the party. Surely he's wrong. But he knows he's not.
A few weeks later, he's reading the paper, and he's not surprised to see her face on the front page, right below the heading 'Local Girl Dies in Mysterious Accident.' Somehow he knew this was coming, saw it in that broken smile. That doesn't stop him from weeping, slow painful sobs, for that broken girl he loved more than any in the world.
Even as he cries, though, he feels a sense of peace, a sense of relief, like when watching a loved one die, not suddenly, but after many hours and days and years of painful suffering. He knew the broken heart inside her could never really be healed.
He only hopes his own can be.