It would have been perfect

She watched him as he made a perfect table in the snow.
Real cups. She had never been drinking out of a real, ceramic cup outdoors. He put so much effort into all of this.
She almost felt sorry for him. If she'd only been the right one for him. If he'd only been the right one for her.
It would have been perfect.

The ginger bread he had made himself.
The spot was perfectly chosen. The landscape was like out of a dream.
What if - she suddenly thought
- What if somewhere else, miles and miles away from them
Two people were sharing a picnic
In the perfect scenery,
with the perfect real ceramic cups.
But still it was not right?
Maybe one of them
was supposed to be
with one of us? she thought.

It made her sad as she smiled to him.
(For so badly she wanted to smile to someone else)
For what could seem so perfect to someone watching from a distance
Could be so wrong to the one close.

The ginger bread tasted like heaven
And the fact that he'd made it
was making it worse.
As she turned away for just a second
She used the back of her hand to wipe a way
Tears.