Campus Corner (Open)

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I look at the people looking at you when you screech, as if to tell them it is okay. "Baby, I don't understand this," I say in a very soft voice as I hug you.
 
I hug you back, crying hard. "I don't think I'm beautiful and I don't understand why everyone thinks so," I whisper through my tears.
 
I take your hand. "Come here," I say. I walk you to the hallway mirror. My hands go to your hips just before I gather your hair and pull it back and lay it across your shoulder, out of your face. "Look here. Beautiful skin, your face is symmetrical. Your eyes are a deep emerald green that is rare. You are blonde, and everyone loves blondes. Now look lower," I say as my hands slide up your waist and cup your breasts. What are these? 34B? They are perfect." My hands go down again. "You are in shape. No extra fat at all." I turn you sideways. Your ass sticks out just a bit and," I slap it. "It"s perfectly firm." I turn you to face me again. "Beautiful," I say, looking into your eyes.
 
I bite my lip and look at you. "That's not what I see," I whisper. "I see flimsy hair that doesn't like me, there's scars on my hands, my boobs are too big for my body, try a 32D, hun; my ass is so small, my thighs are fat. . ." I'm crying now. "The only thing I do like is my eyes. . ."
 
I shrug. "I think so," I say in a small voice. My voice warbles with the strain of tears flowing. "I've just never felt beautiful. . ."
 
I hug you once more. "Well, we are going to get you to start, okay?" I kiss you. "Plan on spending at least a day in your new dress and shoes during the new york trip," I wink.
 
I wake up in the middle of the night for no reason. I try to fall back asleep but I can't. Slipping out from underneath your embrace without waking you, I shed my clothes and make my way down the hall to the full length mirror. I take a look at myself, and try to see what you see, what everyone else sees.
 
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