With You

Alex, NEVER Alexa

I opened my eyes, smiling when I noticed Mitch's arm around me.

My smile quickly faded as I remembered what he saw last night.

My scars. The only secret I ever kept from him.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, knowing that he couldn't hear me.

"For what? It's my fault. Not yours. I wasn't there for you," He said.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked, turning around to face him.

"Nah, I've been up for a few minutes. Just thinking."

"Bout what?"

"Stuff."

"What kiiiiiiiind of stuff?" I asked in a baby voice.

"Stuff about us... And about you. And about how much I love you."

"I love you too. Wait... We just said that for the first time as a couple, didn't we?"

"I think so. The question is, what are we gonna do?"

"Today?"

"No, what are we gonna do about your scars?"

"I don't..."

"I've got an idea," He said, running to get something.

He came back with one of my sharpies, the ones that I use to draw graffiti on old shoes.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

"Gimme your wrist," He said.

"Hokeyp...?"

I held out my wrist as he drew something on it in the red sharpie. He took out a black sharpie and drew checkers on it. When he was done, I looked at it, confused.

"The butterfly project. I saw it on Instagram. You or someone else draws a butterfly on your wrist. You name it after a loved one and you can't scrub it off, it has to wash away naturally. If you cut, the butterfly dies. If not, it lives," He explained.

He had drawn a butterfly with black and red checkered wings.

"Alright... This one is named Mitch," I told him.

"Okay. When was the last time you cut?"

"Right before Adam called and asked me to move in here... So about two weeks ago."

"But... Why?"

"I... I didn't feel good enough. I didn't feel like I was perfect enough for anyone... So I figured... I wasn't needed. My grades weren't A's like everyone wanted, my friends left, I'm not as skinny as everyone else... Just a lot... But mostly because I'm not good enough."

"Alex, you might not be perfect to everyone, but I swear, you are the definition of perfect to me. You're beautiful, sexy, smart, nerdy, cool, skinny, and most importantly you are nice. You are perfect to me and nobody compares to you at all. You are gorgeous and you deserve the absolute best. If you don't see those things, then I will spend eternity trying to make you believe me."

"But Mitch... I'm not... I'm nowhere near perfect. I never will be. It's your choice if you don't want to be with me anymore... I was surprised that you even asked me out. I don't know why you would, I'm not anything special, just another stupid girl. I'm not confident, except for in math because that's the only thing I'm good at. I can't even imagine why, out of hundreds of thousands of girls, you'd choose me. I'm just the idiot who can barely walk down a hallway without tripping."

"But that's what makes you perfect. The fact that you've got flaws. The fact that you get a good laugh when you trip. The fact that you somehow managed to get me to stop being a player. The fact that you are different makes you perfect. You're unique and unique is perfect. You are more than good enough, more than beautiful, more than amazing. The best part is, since you don't believe me, I can tell you that every day. Every day of my life, I want to be able to tell you all of these things. I don't care what people say, you're perfect to me, and that's what matters."