He was a beautiful man. Stunning, actually. His eyes were blue and wide, his smile was all too perfect, and his lips were perfect in shape, not too pouty, not too thin. And I swore, I swore that one thousand buildings were crumbling beneath his touch.

But there was one problem.

His heart was not as beautiful as his glorious eyes.

If fact, his heart was not beautiful at all. It did not match the beauty in his smile. It did not hold one thousand promises and wishes. In fact, it held….pretty much nothing.

No matter what I did, it never seemed enough for him.

All I could do was try harder, letting my lips remain on his for a longer period of time, squeezing his hand every now and then for reassurance, and smile as much as I could when he came in contact with me.

And still, I could not work my way into his heart.

He was not a rude man. Nor a all-business-no-pleasure man, but yet, he still didn't know how to let go. He didn't know how to let go of his insecurities, his issues, his fears, and his…heart.

That's all I wanted.

Enterance into that heart of his.

To make everything go from black to the most vivid color out there.

I just wanted him to know that…I loved him.

I was sure of that.

But what I wasn't sure of was if he loved me back for his heart was empty, right along with his gaze.

Empty.

Emotionless.

But his eyes, his eyes would tell me otherwise. His eyes would tell me they loved me. His eyes would make me want to love him.

That's why I stayed with him for so very long. I wanted to hear him just say the words. I knew that if I stayed around long enough, if I looked into his eyes constantly to reassure myself, if I did all the small things with extra care and emotion, that he would just maybe, maybe learn to love me.

With every day there was growing hope and new things to hope for. I hoped that he would smile at me the same way I smiled at him. I hoped his soul would just give up the search for everlasting love because here it was, staring back into those eyes of his.

Those eyes that held my future.

The eyes that told me everything was going to be okay.

The eyes that brought me everything I ever needed.

I was wishing-no, hoping that his heart would just slip up and let him just utter those three, small words.

They were only three words.

Just three.

And they were all I wanted to hear.

No more.

No less.

Perhaps it was his pride that kept him from loving me. Or maybe it was his dark past that kept his heart so cold and bare. Maybe it was even me that made that heart of his so fragile. I would never know for sure, but still, I stayed.

I stayed for four years. Four years of devotion, heartache, sleepless nights, love, passion, and of course, heartache again. After four years he still did not utter those three small words I wanted to hear so bad. But of course, I would stay. Forever. Just waiting. Waiting for his soul to let up, waiting for his heart to lighten up, and waiting for his mouth to open and mumble three words.

Each and everyday I would look into those eyes and melt. Not because they were so amazingly magnificent, but because I found new hope in them. I found….love in them. I was just waiting for his heart to confess to me.

But one day, those eyes of his went out and everything went downhill.

Just like that he had become blind.

I frantically searched his eyes for pain, love, hate, anger, solace, heartache, confusion, devotion, just…anything.

But there was nothing.

Those once beautiful, raging, emotion filled eyes had been replaced with pools of nothingness. Perhaps if they were pools of confusion, I could help him regain ground, but it was nothingness. He seemed to be unaffected. It was almost as if vision was just a mere factor in his life. But how could it be when he knew he would never see a child licking a popsicle on a humid day? How could it be when he would never see the woman he devoted his time to for four years? How could it be when he would never see not a single music note for the rest of his life? How could it be if he could never...experience life through the eyes a man who was loved? For me, it had all come crashing down. For him, it was just another day in his meaningless, boring, loveless life.

I felt like crying right then and there when I realized for four years he had never seen me cry and now he would never see my cry.

My eyes began to water and loud, pitiful sobs began to shake from my body. For a moment I thought there was recognition on his face, but there was none.

I jumped when I realized his face began to curl into somewhat of an expression, but it soon faded away. And again, was the sad face that he put up as a front. I knew his mind was affected, but yet his heart remained untouched.

Just like his eyes. Just like his soul. Just like everything else on his beautiful, elegant body.

Untouched.

Dark, quiet…

and unloved. Unappreciated.