Stained

I wouldn't believe it. Refused to believe it. His words went against everything I'd been told by those around me- everything I'd told myself. I was ugly and that was the end of it. I was an outcast who didn't need or even deserve the affection of anyone other than my family and best friend. From the moment I'd entered middle school, I learned this. I reminded myself of it every day so that I couldn't get hopeful, so that I wouldn't make an embarrassment of myself by thinking that anyone else could view me differently from the masses. I wasn't pathetic. I was a dreamer, but I wasn't stupid.

So why, WHY, was I letting one boy open the gates that led into the maze of my true personality, letting him see things that I'd be ashamed to let anyone else see about myself? Why was I purposely setting myself up for the worst heartbreak I'd ever experience just so that everyone could tell me that I only had myself to blame afterward?

And above all things, why did this boy seem genuine in his efforts to erase my insecurities and replace them with the staples of self-confidence?