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I look down at my wrist and there lays a band there. It's made of paper and stuck together by some glue. I wore it through the state fair, I bought it for $25, because I wanted to ride the rides they offered. I've been waiting wondering how long it'll take the band to fall off.

I, like the band am easily pulled off. I'm connected to other people like glue, but I don't know how long it'll take me to fall out of their lives. I already know, that I'm already discarded in some people's trash. I wasn't there for them, not because I didn't want to be, because they didn't need me anymore.

They so easily put me on like the band I wore to the state fair. They went on trips with me, laughed with me, but never once did they cry with me. They got angry with me, and they fought with me. They never once apologized, or did their part in the work.

So, I'm sitting here starring at the band on my wrist and I'm wondering. 'How long will you stay, before you also fall off?'

He had called girls beautiful before, but after she had left him. He couldn't bring himself to use the word so unjustly. Beautiful, should be used with care he reasoned, calling every woman beautiful, that I don't really care about is lying. He locked up the word, and stopped calling those women around him beautiful, instead he down graded them to the word pretty. Which was nice to them, but every woman wants to hear that one fateful word.

Years, would pass by and the scars left from a love that wasn't meant to be would slowly heal or fade into the background of his mind. Most of the scars turned into fears, and caged him from loving another woman, like the one he had before.

Then she walked into his life, and made him happy. She'd never been in love, but was frightened none the less. Love wasn't something she gave freely, but she fell hard for him. She knew that she loved him before he even came to think to of that nagging phrase. So, they'd stay together, she was patient with him, she wasn't easily angered, and she wasn't anything at all like the love he had before.

Months would pass, and she was waiting for that phrase that nagged in her throat now. Yet, when he called her beautiful after three months of wondering. She knew what it meant to him, and she knew that he really cared. Beautiful is a word she cherished from him, and always will, because even though she doesn't have many sacred words, she still knows he cares.