You're beautiful; a generic statement. They can say it without even looking at you because it's what you want to hear. But when he looks at me and looks at my whole face like he's examining every inch, every part of my skin, and then looks into my eyes and says it, I believe him. And I never want that to go away.
This next paragraph has nothing to do with the previous.
In some ways I doubt it, and not because of what it is now, but because my view has changed on everything and because of outside forces that always seem to get to my core. I hate it all.
wait, they don't love you like I love you
They don't know you like I know you
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