I hate what I see, in the mirror. It's repulsive. I cannot understand how anyone can bear to look upon me. I'm a parody of beauty, and it sickens me.

I lift up my t-shirt, and what I see there calms me slightly. I have never let anyone see them, nobody even knows they're there. But I do. I know.

I'm not sure how long I stare into the mirror, but it is as long as it takes for my boyfriend to come home. I hear his key in the lock, and quickly pull my shirt down. As I unlock the bathroom door, I wonder what he has planned for tonight. It's my birthday, you see, and he said he had a surprise for me.

I walk down the hallway, but he's not there. I can hear movement in the kitchen, so I head there. He has his back to me, and I sneak up behind him and put my hands over his eyes. "Guess who?"

He turns within my arms and answers me with a kiss. It turns into a long kiss, and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him. I don't show it, but his arms are sending shocks of pain through me. I won't show it; I never have and never will.

We finally part, and he gives me the cutest smile. It makes my heart melt, but at the same time makes me hate myself. Why did he choose me? Why couldn't he choose someone who would be good for him? I've thought so many times about letting him go, but the thought alone nearly brings me to my knees. He is my saving grace, and I cannot forget it.