"You don't," she said "understand. I live in a world in which every day I'm reminded is ephemeral, and my looks will not last.

I live in world where a tiny line on my face can change my life indeed determine for me love and how I am regarded, and my own sense of my self.

I live in a world where the inner me I may offer but all that matters among strangers is how I look. I can offer personality as a substitute but that implies contact, but first attraction, as we all know, is how you look walking down the street, your face, your body shape; that is what they see first, that is what they judge you by. Let's face it. This is what is happening at least in the city.

And I can choose to ignore these realities or I can pander to them increasing my own sense of betrayal to my self. I comfort myself and say I can always go back to where they love me, but even that is a me that was the me of my youth; not the me all grown up.

Am I to, therefore, find the love of others only in the me of my youth or shall I take the verdict of the city streets as the real me, or worse shall I look at the older ones who, even to me, look old, out of shape and are for me a source of fear and I make my silent vow, that I shall not allow myself to let my self go like that. I shall take care of myself, eat right, and exercise.

That's what I say to my self. But this is difficult ground but even in my short years I have seen that I can be dropped for a younger model and fickle are the affections of the other when all is based on how you look.

The trap is snapped often and does not relent at the employers table where too, looks matter it seems.

So here I am encased in the real me while outside what shows is a mirror reflecting only others fantancies."

He said:

"I have a different burden to bear where all I am is judged on my future prospects and indeed, I too, must have the look, although not as much as you to bare. I too, get dropped, when the girl I'm dating is offered a better future and security. And I, am chained  my entire life to a job and career, sixty hour weeks and a bleak job future. I can offer only unattached romance and can't afford to marry. So some other guy has some nest egg of resources is preferred over me as you resolve that though you love me, a girl has to think of her future."

Heartache for each; a function of economy and superficiality.