A Precious Smile

This thing fills me with pleasure. I don’t know why. I can see it in the smallest detail. When someone smiles at me, no matter the nature of the smile, I feel happy. Be it a loving smile, caring smile, sad smile, or an embarrassed smile when someone doesn’t know what to do and happens to meet my eyes. There are smiles of the forced variety that are not as genuine, and those also make me happy because I find them funny. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about this whole smiling business though, it’s that the best smiles come from those you care deeply for. When my sister smiles at me, or my Dad, it’s way better than the shy, polite ones I get from the occasional stranger.1

A couple months ago in December, I received the greatest smile I’ve ever gotten. The most precious. I got it from someone very special who means the world to me; a friend I felt for as more than that. Sadly, she did not return my feelings and at the time, had a boyfriend. Forced smiles were everywhere I went for weeks, especially when I happened to run into him, or him with her. One day after school, they were together and I was distracting myself with my other friends, but before she left, she pulled me aside. Concern was shining in her usually cheerful eyes.2

“Are you okay?” she asked, and held my arms so I wouldn’t turn away from her. “I’m...I’m sorry about that.”3

“You don’t have to apologize,” I was quick to reply. “You guys shouldn’t have to watch yourselves just because of me.” I could tell she felt bad from the way her grip loosened slightly on my arms, and I felt guilt and pain well up in me like an overflowing fountain. Finally, I raised my eyes from the floor to look at her. She was so beautiful, always is, but I knew she was struggling with what to do. Her eyes looked tired and sad, like she was many years older, and gleamed with the confusion I had placed there. She didn’t want to make a big scene with her boyfriend because she didn’t want to intensify my hurt, make it worse. She was kind, and considerate. She didn’t want me to leave her. It was the little things she did that made me love her in the first place, and in that moment, I loved her even more.4

Purely on instinct, I lifted one of my hands to brush the fire colored hair out of her pale blue eyes. Surprise shot across her features and she stared at me as I gently took her face in my hands. I made sure to look directly at her as I said, “I’m okay, really. If I’m not, I will be. Please don’t worry. If there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s for you to sacrifice your happiness for mine.”5

She blinked once, very slowly, before those beautiful eyes softened a little. “You’re really okay?”6

I attempted to smile. “Yeah.”7

Her features softened completely, into the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen. It was sad, but also happy, and it conveyed all the affection she felt for me as her best friend. It wasn’t a big smile, just a warm curling of her lips, and I remember her eyes were glowing. It may not have been much, but it was perfect. I had never been so happy in my life, knowing that I meant so much to her, even if it wasn’t in the same way. There was a silent promise in that smile that said we would always be together, always be best friends, and be precious to each other no matter what would happen. I would receive many more smiles after that, but I doubt any of them will mean more to me than the one from her on that cold December day.8

That’s all. I know, of course, some of the reasons why it was pleasant. But there was some element of great beauty there that makes a rush of warmth when I think of it.