Meaningful Words

“You’re beautiful,” he compliments, holding her close. She smiles politely, shivering in his arms. Beautiful. She remembers when he first said it, in a tone of reverence, when she wore a dress to winter formal. This time, it’s spoken from a sleepy mouth to her naked form. She thinks of all the things she considers beautiful: A lake surrounded by tress. A snow covered lane. The surging ocean. A horse galloping. The view from her uncle’s condo in Hawaii. Angelina Jolie. The thought pops unwilling into her head and the flow of gorgeous images is broken. She is nothing like Angelina Jolie; she is just a girl, a plain girl at that, and really, she would have settled for pretty. Pretty conjures up another set of images. Christmas tree lights. A field of grass and dandelions. Tropical birds. Sarah Michelle Gellar. No, she thinks that isn’t quite right either. She rolls over in his arms, resolutely faces the wall. She’s best just to stick with cute and all the clichés that it brings. Playful puppies and fluffy kittens. Cherry blossoms. Hello Kitty. Stuffed animals. “I think you mean I’m cute.” She sticks her chin out obstinately, even though he can’t see it. He shifts around so he can look into her eyes. “Well, that too.” He smiles and tweaks her nose. “But mostly, you’re beautiful.” She only wishes that it could be true. “I love you.” Oh, she thinks, maybe it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, because he loves her.