I saw her for the first time today. Yes, I realize that technically I've laid eyes on her many times, but I've never truly seen her. Running for your life tends to have that affect on you. So it was that I observed her for the very first time.
Her black hair is glossy, her pale face plain. There is no beauty in this girl; her nose is long and her eyes are narrow, her cheekbones too prominent and face too sallow. Those slanted brown eyes are as cold as ice, and I've never once seen her pale, thin lips turn up into a smile.
I wonder what it is that he sees in her.
It's been four years since I saw him last…or w it five? I can't remember. We were children back then, fighting a war we feared we wouldn't win, and losing a battle in our hearts. We loved each other, you see… at least as much as children have the capacity to love.
We were afraid, and in that fear, we didn't learn that our feelings were reciprocated until much later. By that time, it was too late. We had built ourselves separate lives in separate countries, and had changed so much that we no longer knew each other.
She was in his life as well.
When he first spoke to me about her, I can't deny that a stab of jealousy went through me. The feelings that I had thought were dead rose swiftly in my breast, and I attempted to stifle them as best I could. But the thought of another woman in his arms… it was enough to drive me crazy. And because of this, I thought about her all the time. What was it that endeared her to him? Was she prettier than me? Kinder?
Today was the first time that I had a chance to meet her face to face, and I found her more than lacking. Her conversation was dull, her expression unchanging. More than once I caught her filing her nails or staring across the room with a vacant expression in her eyes.
It wasn't until I stepped into the gardens that I understood. They sat side by side on a bench by the turtle duck pond. They were silent, but they didn't need words to communicate. She held his hand as she stared up at him, and the look in her eyes… it was one of utter love and devotion.
No wonder he sees something in her: she loves him, probably more than I ever did. He doesn't look back at her with the same spark in his eyes, but something is there nonetheless.
I left them alone, slipping out of the garden just as quietly as I had entered it. And although my heart was heavy, I finally understood.