Who knew? She seemed to have things in order, really - only a modest 20 years old, worked a good job with decent benefits, went to college, that sort of thing. For all the world it seemed she had the world laid out at her feet, the path to glory and greatness but a lazy stroll for her. How could I have been so wrong?
She has a pretty smile, you must understand - yes, I am almost certain that's what got me. She has a way of smiling at a person, soft lush lips, slightly glossed, pulled back over not-quite-straight-but-still-charming teeth and just the barest hint of dimples in cute almost-chubby cheeks. When she graced a person with that smile (and she used it often for anyone who seemed to need it - from the stranger cashier at the store to her most beloved family members) the victim had no choice but to suspect they might be the pinnacle of the human race for someone to smile at them so. A girl with such a powerful, kind, happy smile had to have been happy. I was certain she was some kind of loving Goddess come down to frolic in human form amongst her subjects.
So I got closer. I cupped her smiling face in my hands and I kissed those sweet lips and I explored her with wonderful abandon . . . it was then I found the shadows. It was then I found her humanity, that dark ugly swirling bit inside of her she kept so tightly encased in her world of brilliance and sunshine.
You might think, perhaps, that I am shallow or pompous or any manner of unsavory things, and you may be true, but I was so disappointed I could not stand it. She is sweet and kind and fills a room with excitement and joy and wonder . . . but damn me I can't stand her now. I know her secret sorrows and despair and pain - all those things I looked for when I had wanted to know her so badly, and somehow I feel betrayed by them. She was my goddess, she was pure pleasure in every way possible; when I learned this was untrue her humanity became a betrayal.
Now, when she smiles at me, all I see is the darkness in her eyes. I hear sobs in her laughter, I see tears in her glittering eyeshadow, I feel ice in her warm touch, and damn me I hate her for it.