Hoarding perfect

(I'm writing on an iPod so please ignore the errors here).
I look into my vanity's mirror and sigh deeply. All my life I built an image for myself that I religiously lived by, but now, I watch it crumble beneath my feet.
I pick up my pink gloss and apply it lightly to my lips and a really thin layer of mascara. I then put my hair in a slick bun. I feel different, not only because I skipped lunch to have enough appetite for dinner but for a fact that I see a person different in the mirror from who I've known since my freshman year. For some odd reason different feels good. I'm going to get used to this. My door swung open so violently, it made a bang on the wall causing my doorknob bounce off its hinges and roll towards my foot.
"I'll get that fixed, promise", my door wrecker said, sounding the least sincere I've heard in my 17 years of existence.
"Sure you will", I responded with a bag full of sarcasm seasoning my tone.
I look away from my mirror to see Will, the wrecker himself leaning on my door post in a plain grey V-necked tee and wash faded skinny jeans.
He flashed me his thousand watt smile,which made his blue eyes most appealing. "Come on, I don't have all day".
When I didn't bulge, he strode to me and grabbed my arm still smiling from ear to ear and pulled me up and close to him in a way a dime would not drop if placed between us. "I'm taking you out!"