The Happiest Sadness.

True Love.

I've learned that true love doesn't come from the cute boy who sits in class, occasionally talking to you.
It doesn't come from the boy who smiles at you in the hallway every morning on your way to class.
It doesn't come from the boy at the party who only wanted you for sex.
It doesn't come from the boy who praises your body, and not your mind.
It doesn't come from the boy who likes your Instagram post, only commenting on how pretty you are.
No, true love comes from the man who finds you to be the most beautiful woman.
He finds you to be the most beautiful woman, because after a night out, and your makeup is down your face, he wipes it off with a warm rag, and tells you how pretty you are.
He thinks of you in more ways than just sex.
When he looks at you, he sees you from the inside out. Seeing your secrets unveil, and watching the raw pain make you into who you are.
When he looks at you, he wouldn't dare inflict the pain that other men have, because then he may lose you, and he couldn't stand the thought of that.
When he looks at you, he never thinks about another woman. He only sees the one, that's been through hell and back, and still gave enough trust to let him in.
No, true love comes from the man who can take your deepest sorrows and show you that life has more value than that.
True love comes from the man, that shows you that all the others, were just merely boys.