You are beautiful

“You’re beautiful.” Jake whispered. 

“Stop.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt like a liar.

“Stop what?” he asked. 

“Saying I’m beautiful.”

“Why? it’s the truth..” 

“It’s not okay? You don’t see me at the end of the day, you don’t see me  right when I get out of the shower. You don’t see me trying on every outfit, you don’t see how gross I look most of the day. You don’t see what I see in the mirror, so don’t you dare say I’m beautiful. Because I’m not.” 

Jake shook his head, almost laughing. 

“You don’t get it, do you? You think you know what you look like, but you have no idea. You’re right. I don’t see you the way you see you, but you also don’t see you the way I see you. You don’t see you laughing, or telling a story, you don’t see the way your eyes light up when you talk about all those books you love. You don’t see yourself asleep in my arms, or the way you look right when you wake up. But I do, and that’s why I have every right to call you beautiful.”