Beautiful

Note: This was written from the perspective of a male, but does not have to be read that way.

xxxxxxxxx

She was beautiful.

Many people said it. Many people knew it.

But none of them meant it the same way you did.

It wasn't that she didn't have any physical beauty. If it weren't for the complications in her life, she could have easily been a model for any teen magazine. Her shoulder-length, silky brown hair would make any woman jealous. Her bright hazel eyes were a shade rarely seen. Her naturally pale skin was pretty, but the lack of sunlight she was exposed to made it almost porcelain.

To anyone else, she was a natural beauty, with looks to die for.

But to you, her beauty was so much more.

She had been born with one of the worst cases of muscular dystrophy doctors had ever seen. Consequently, she hadn't left the hospital at all during her thirteen years of life, and had mostly been confined to the same room. But considering that she wasn't supposed to have lived longer than three years... The fact she was still breathing was a miracle in itself.

And even if she had lived past three years, the doctors had said she'd always be on a feeding tube. Never able to move, and have only a severely limited sense of cognitive recognition. She'd be trapped. Trapped in her body, and each day could be her last.

And yet, every day, with each breath she took, she was proving those doctors wrong.

No, she could not walk or move her legs. No, she could not feed herself and could not fully use her arms.

But she could chew her own food. She could sit up on her own. She was greatly improving how well she could use her hands, as well as their range of movement. There were times when she could even grip and pencil and write a few words. And she could speak, something many were worried she wouldn't be able to learn how to do. In fact, she was as sharp as a whip, and tended to talk all the time about whatever she wanted.

But there were bad days.

Days when she couldn't sit up, and could barely chew without assistance. Days when it seemed like the only thing she could do was talk.

Not to mention the worst days.

Those days pained you the most. The days when she was completely and utterly bedridden. The days when all she did was stare blankly at the wall.

Visitors weren't allowed on those days.

And yet... Despite the having the knowledge that she could die at any time, she never stopped smiling, never stopped laughing.

She inspired you, more than anyone else had, and more than anyone else could. She had given you hope when hope had been the last thing on your mind.

You could never tell her this, of course. Not that you were afraid, per se, but it wasn't something you felt needed to be said. Or rather, it wasn't something you could say. Instead, you visited her daily.

You glanced at the watch on your wrist. 2:30. It was time to head over to her room.

You smiled to yourself as you pushed opened the door of your room and started on the way to hers. Maintaining a positive attitude around her was something you always made sure to do. You'd never forgive yourself if you became another source of negativity in her life.