I look at the mass of flesh in the mirror and I see someone normal. I am not fat, but not amazingly thin. My legs are far from bulky, but they are not fragile sticks. I am normal. I want to be extraordinary. Not normal. Far from myself. Extraordinary. Just for you.
Next to you, I am a destructive wreck, a sharp contrast from the perfection that you are. Subconsciously, I feel that I do not deserve you in my life, therefore I don't deserve to be happy. You are too perfect. I want to change. I need to change.
Your presence brings the feeling of joy to the surface. I don't know how to cope with being happy. I don't know how to handle kindness and your undying grace. I want to deserve you.
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