It’s one of those stereo typical Saturday mornings where it is pouring rain and you are snuggled in bed with netflix and some nutella, only I am just snuggled in bed and there is no netflix or nutella. I am kind of just laying there, eyes watering, and really sad.
That tends to happen more often then not. I get so sad that I need to curl up in bed, lay my head on my tempurpedic pillow, and pull my really fluffy comforter up to my chin. I don’t play music though. I know that if I put anything on, automatically some sad Ed Sheeran or Front Porch Step will go on and that’ll only make things worse. Although I don’t see how it can. All I want to do is lay here forever.
As I blink away the tear that is trying to escape my eye, I hear something thwack against my window. Thinking nothing of it, I pull out my phone to maybe scroll through instagram. A few moments later I hear it again.
The paranoid person that I am, I get up from my window, immediately beginning to miss the warmth and comfort of my bed, and go see what is going on.
When I said it was pouring rain before, I mean sheets and sheets of rain are falling from the sky. It’s hard to see much of anything really, but I do manage to spot a figure standing on my lawn which is a little disturbing and creepy.
The thwack comes again, and this time I know that it is the figure in the rain throwing things at my window. The figure looks like they are waving to me, but I am disturbed so I climb back into bed.
After a couple more thwacks at my window, I realize this figure in the rain isn’t going anywhere. Putting on some slippers and an oversized sweatshirt, I go downstairs with the intentions of only opening the front door to yell at them or see what they want.
I am completely not in the mood to do just about anything at the moment, but if I do want to sleep, having objects thrown at my window will definitely halt that.
“Ray, Ray please talk to me.” The figure shouts out to me.
My previous watering eyes return and I now make out who the figure is.
“What are you doing here Ethan?” I sigh, not fully mentally stable enough to deal with whatever he has to say.
“Please just hear me out.” Ethan begs.
“Hear you out on what?”
“My opinion. Hear what I have to say please.”
“Well you aren’t coming inside.” I cross my arms, stepping out slightly onto the porch and closing the front door behind me.
If he’d like to speak with me, he can stand in the rain that is perfectly reflecting the way I feel right now.
“I’d stand hours in the rain for you, if that meant you’d believe me when I tell you that you are beautiful.”
I roll my eyes at him and then look to the ground, unable to meet his eyes.
“Ray, I came out in the f***ing rain to prove it to you. I’ve been standing out here for hours trying to figure out what to say to you. But I am running out of ways to convince you that you are beautiful.”
“So stop trying.”
“I wish I could, but it breaks my heart a little every time you turn away blushing when I tell you how pretty you look and I know that you don’t believe me. It is just something so obvious to me, like the sky is blue or that I love you. I don’t understand how it is not obvious to you.”
“It is not obvious to me because I see the truth when I look in the mirror. I hear the truth when my mother whispers ‘if only she put a little make up on’, or when my dad asks if I stopped going to the gym. I understand that when I see myself what you have somehow not yet seen.”
“And what is that?”
“That me and beautiful do not match.”
“But that is bullshit! You are probably one of the most beautiful girls in the world.”
“No, that is bullshit.” I look straight at Ethan, eyes blazing with attitude. "I appreciate that you believe that. It means the world to me to hear that you see me as some beautiful girl who you can always look at when you think your life is lacking some beauty. But that isn’t who I am really. I believe that you believe that with all your heart, but I don’t believe that I am beautiful and just because you do doesn’t mean I am suddenly going to also.”
“Then let me convince you. Let the things I tell you and the compliments I give you make you see the light.” He takes a step closer to me, allowing  me to notice how his clothes are clinging to him, and how his hair is falling to cover over his beautiful eyes.
Snapping out of it I scoff, “Oh I’ve seen the light. I’ve seen it shine down on my face and it’s flaws, and my body with it’s fatness, and my mind with my ugly characteristics. It’s brought all that up to surface. I’d like the light to go away really.”
“But everyone has those flaws. Without them you’d be perfect.”
“Don’t you want perfection?”
“I want you, and you are perfect to me with these flaws.” He says softly.
“So let me be without them.”
“You aren’t f***ing getting it. Everything I say, it flies right by you.”
“But you aren’t getting it either. And your cursing at me.”
“YEAH I’M CURSING AT YOU. YOU ARE BEING RIDICULOUS! You know what? Maybe I should stop complimenting you all together. That seems to be what you want isn’t it? So f***ing ridiculous you are. You just can’t accept a compliment.”
“I can accept it!” I defend myself. “i just won’t believe it simply because you claim it’s true.”
“But thats the thing Ray. I don’t just claim it to be true. I know it is true. I know it more then I know anything in my whole life. But you just won’t see it.”
“I am not just going to see you the way you see me! And you coming here? Yelling at me like this? Getting frustrated with me like this? It’s only making things worse! I don’t believe you Ethan! Get that through your skull! That’s not a bad thing! I AM STILL ACCEPTING THE COMPLIMENTS! You can shower me with them all you want. Just know, that in the back of my mind I am always wondering if it is really true.”
“Whatever.” Ethan throws his hands up in the air. “Dismiss my love for you like its nothing important. I understand."
“Oh my god.” My mouth drops. 
“What?”
“Your kidding right? Do you understand how insensitive you are being?”
“Insensitive? I am trying to prove to my girlfriend that I am not just fabricating all these things I say about her out of thin air. I am trying to tell her that her crazy hair is one of my favorite things to play with, and her smile makes my day brighter every selfie she sends, and the way she laughs is the way a princess would laugh. Like a fairy would laugh. But she is just not believing it.”
“Self image is not that simple Ethan. It doesn’t work like that. For years I have been struggling to be okay with myself. I told myself every day I was pretty for some years, hoping if I said it enough it would become true. I starved myself for the later years, hoping my body would meld into one I was comfortable with. I nearly took weapons to my body at my worst points, ready to slice off every layer of flaw I had until I was a pile of dismembered body parts because that would be what it would take until I felt okay with who I am. When I wasn’t who I am. I have to leave the razors out of the showers when I wash myself because in the back of my mind I’ve got a part whispering ‘maybe it would work’ even though I know that no one where could I put it on my body where someone wouldn’t find. And I am so god damn terrified that someone will find out about all my issues… all the demons I have. I am so god damn afraid to tell anyone about the thoughts I have because maybe I am a burden to them. Maybe they tell me they want to hear what I have to say but in reality I am just some annoying fly buzzing around their ear and I should just buzz off because I am irritating. You know what? It probably makes me more upset that I don’t see myself the way you see me then it upsets you. Self image is just something that every girl struggles with, and I am struggling with it a lot. You don’t seem to understand that the way we are brought up and the way media has taken over our lives, we are conditioned to believe we need to be beautiful and that we aren’t beautiful. We can find all sorts of ways to become beautiful. What does beautiful even mean? And you know what, if you are saying beauty isn’t real. Then I guess millions of girls are killing themselves to become something that isn’t real and if that’s a problem then we’ve got a problem. But there is nothing we can do. I am sorry that it’s upsetting you so much. But things aren’t going to change. The way I seem myself isn’t going to change. At least not for awhile.”
I leave Ethan in the pouring rain, not caring about whether he stays there and gets sick or not, and slam the front door behind me with all my might. Then before I can stop myself I run up the stairs, body shaking from anger and sadness and with tears. I pull out the razors that I had fought with myself about this morning.
I look at them for a minute or two then I move in a trance like manner, and drop them in the toilet, flushing them away and all the tears that fell in with them.