tw: mentions of body image issues

Liam asked me to go to an amusement park, and of course I said yes, but as I watch myself in the mirror, I have second thoughts.

The burrito I ate makes my stomach bulge outward, and my legs look lanky in this skirt. My arms look too bony; my face looks too round. I poke and prod at my body, different parts that I want to be bigger and smaller, curvier and flatter.

I mourn the loss of things I've never had, things I wish I could have. I see people living perfect lives with perfect relationships and perfect faces. Everything's fucking perfect. Everyone's fucking perfect-but me. My skin is turning red while tears stream down my face. Liam's never gonna like me if I look like this.

"Hi," he says as I get in his car. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt, and blue jeans, a grin on his face. I smile back, but internally, I'm wondering if he's judging me; if he's looking at my acne, or how my hair isn't sitting perfectly on my head. Maybe my makeup isn't-

"You look beautiful," and as the words leave his mouth, I feel relieved. I realize he has that effect on me, always making me feel wanted, making me feel confident.

"You don't look too bad yourself," I tease. He can't contain his smile when I say that, and I guess I can't either because I feel myself grinning ear to ear.

"Getting bold now, are we?" he asks. I shrug, not wanting to respond. Maybe I am getting more bold. Maybe it's because of you.

And then we get to the amusement park, and he runs out to open the door for me. No one has done that before. I take his hand, feeling my heart racing from that simple of a touch.

"Dang, I don't think I want to let go now that I have it."

"Then don't." I reply. And he doesn't.

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