“You are beautiful.”
I looked away.
It is too painful. The way he said it. I don’t know whether he meant it. I never take compliments. But his compliments are different and I love them. I love listening to him call me beautiful, just like any other girls. I love the way he said it. Maybe it is because I like him, or maybe deep down I really like being called beautiful, because I am a girl and I will always be one.
I cannot take compliments.
I cannot take compliments because it hurts. It hurts because I know I am not. It hurts because when I look at the girls around, I cannot help but realize that everyone is so beautiful. Everyone is so beautiful and unique and they are tall and pretty and thin. I know, I know that it is wrong to look at the world this way. I know that they say looks don’t matter and that what is inside is what matters the most, but I can’t help it. I can’t help it that I look at pretty girls and compare myself to them. I can’t help but feel inferior and tell myself that I am not good enough. I am never going to be good enough. I am never going to be as pretty as they are. They will always be the ones who everyone will woo at. I will never be like them.
Because I am a plain pink plum blossom in a field of gorgeous red roses.
They are so beautiful. They are so attractive. They are outspoken. They know what to do and they know what to say in every situations. They know what is right and what is wrong. They know what they should do. They don’t have to worry about not having a place to go at the end of the day. They don’t have to worry about their future. I don’t know what they are thinking, but they don’t look like they are having any problems. They swing their hair and tell the world how happy they are with their boyfriends and how their future is planned out by their parents and how they have nothing to worry about. They fret about life and how hard life is but they don’t have to worry about which direction to go because it is already pointed to them, so they don’t have to worry if they make a wrong decision, they have someone to back them up.
Maybe they have their problems too.
But if they do, then they are doing a pretty good job at covering their problems up.
So if they can do it, why can’t I?
I can’t pretend that I have no problems in my life. Sometimes, I roll over my bed and text him telling him to take care, telling him that he has to be alright, the thing that I don’t tell him is that I am not fine, that I am crying, that everything is breaking apart in me. I can’t bring myself to tel him because I don’t want him to be troubled by anything. He is occupied enough in his life and he does not need someone like me, someone who is constantly plunged into depression for no reason.
But he says he needs me.
I don’t know.
But he has to know I need him more than he needs me.
I need him because I love him. I love him so much I can’t believe I can love a person like this. I need him to be here with me, but he can’t and he is not. He is a few thousands miles away, across the oceans, across the far land. I need him to be with me now, because I need someone to just be with me and not say anything. I don’t want anyone to tell me that things are alright, I just want someone to sit with me and know that things are bad but that will be okay because we will be okay. So, when he says he needs me, I am happy. I am truly happy because I thought that I am good enough for him.
But I know I am not.
I am never going to be good enough. I will never be like the other girls. I can’t be like them. I can’t be the prettiest. I can’t. I am just so ordinary. I am not the kind of girl who will attract all the attention in the room. I can’t. I am sorry that I am so ordinary when you are so extraordinary. I am sorry for not being good enough for you.
But I thank you for loving me, for cherishing me when I can’t love myself. I thank you for doing all the things for me. I thank you for a lot of things. I thank you for calling me beautiful all the time. I thank you for caring for me. I thank you for being there for me when I need you to be. I thank you for loving me.
“You are beautiful.”