Untitled

She looked in the mirror, a hand covering her right cheek. Her eyes flashed away, but only momentarily. She regained her gaze with herself, wishing her head would cease it's judgment. She, overall, had the right to say whether she was decent to the eyes. No one else. After all, people tend to over-judge or under-judge others. She wasn't sure as to whether judgments on one's self were accurate, but they must be more accurate than his.
He was wrong. He didn't know her. Only she did. Didn't she? Of course she did. She slowly lowered her hand to cradle her lower lip. She was beautiful. Her family agreed, and her friends. Would people still love her if she wasn't? They would, she shouldn't be so stupid.
Still, she couldn't help but question. He had said he loved her. Then how could he be so cruel? She had already attempted telling herself that he was a liar. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't believe that.
Maybe he was right. Maybe he was even kind. What if he had attempted loving her, but just couldn't ignore her ugliness foever? She again reminded herself that she was being stupid, and that no one would do that. How could he manage to make her embarrassed of her own thoughts? She wasn't even sure if she loved him, but she knew she shouldn't if she did.
He was right. He had to be. She had cared so much...about him. He wouldn't hurt her so badly over a lie. She felt a tear trickle over her hand, and she wondered how long she had been crying.