You, who laughs like a waterfall, who smiles like the stars are her friends, who dances as if the world will always love you. You, who is beautiful, still as you cry your crystal tears. Plink. Plink. Plink. They drop to the ground and sadly I ask you, “When will you learn to love yourself as much as you yearn for someone else’s love?”

We sit on a train rushing through the hills of Italy. Rain hits the polished windows like a long forgotten melody. But you cannot focus on the melancholy rain or the whispering hills because there is a beautiful woman across from you, her delicate hands folded on top of her red skirt. Her eyes track the distance outside of the train, and yours simply admire her. The curve of her lips. The splatter if golden freckles across her high cheekbones. The warm brown of her curling hair. Then she looks at you, with her lovely galaxy eyes, and you realize you’ve forgotten about the loveliness of love in a hateful world.