"You" he said, "will never know the true meaning of beauty. You will never see things for what they really are."
I looked at him, confused and then looked at the stars.
"The stars are nice." I replied. He followed my gaze and looked into the darkness.
"Tell me about you."
"We've been dating for over a year, I think you know everything." I said with a laugh.
"No. I know what your favourite ice cream flavour is and I know why you get sad sometimes, but I don't know what you define as beautiful or what you think of the stars. And I think that's what makes a person."
"Well," I said, "flowers are pretty."
He shook his head. "Flowers are flowers, they're exactly what you expect them to be. Beautiful is flaws and chipped edges, scars and broken pieces. Pretty isn't beautiful, I hope one day people see that."
