"Tell me, what do you hate the most about yourself?" he asks.
"A lot." she replies, fiddling with her fingers, avoiding eye contact.
"Like?"
She sighed. "Hm, let me think. Well, I hate the shape of my face, my body, my height, how I see myself, how desperate I am for some things, how different I am from others, how uninvolved I am from others, how mean I am to myself..." she continued on, her sentence getting longer and longer as she enumerated, her voice getting harder and harder as if she was mad at herself, at her flaws.
"Huh." was all he was able to say after she had said everything.
"Look. I'm not expecting you to stay. Nobody does. Not with a girl who hates herself."
"So...what do you like about yourself then?"
She didn't answer. She just stared down at her lap, the color of her jeans being the most interesting to look at. She heard him sigh after a few moments of silence. She felt him shift by her side. She didn't bother to look up at him. After all, she knew he was only preparing to leave. But then, she was mistaken. He wasn't. Instead, his hand took hers which made her look at him. He was smiling sadly at the same time with admiration.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are." he rubbed his thumb gently on the back of her hand. "You need to see that."
"I-I thought you were leaving."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No. i have to prove to you that not everybody is going to leave you just because of your flaws and your mistakes."
- From the girl who daydreams a lot of nonsense
