smile pretty for the camera, love. exhale as the fingers of your right hand caress your own skin, still bearing the last touches of summer gone by. your left hand pushes the button, clicking to commemorate a memory of when you felt beautiful; sexy, even.
pop music floods the incandescent mood with sounds - inspiring dance-like grace. (click) i love you (click) i'm smiling (click) i'm beautiful
(click)
you crashed down from that egotistical high when responses, once thought delayed, were proven nonexistent.
"...aren't i?" you begged, and received a half-hearted confirmation
beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and when you realized that you were not beheld as beautiful, you admonished yourself for believing, even for just a moment, that you were.
(delete)
from now on, you shall stay on the other side of the lens. others are worthy of the zoom-in and click. you, however, are not. you have learned your lesson.