The full extent and brutal honesty of it all.
A sequel to "Eyeliner."
You should listen to "Beneath Your Beautiful" after you read this. It so perfectly describes the feelings inside this. Admittedly, it's where I got the idea for the "Broadway Show" bit.
Another perfect song is The Civil Wars' "Poison and Wine."
Today, she caught a glimpse of who he truly was.
They weren't really talking about anything of importance (yet everything they talk about is important to her), but he briefly mentioned one of his insecurities. She looked into his eyes, even though he had averted them, and -
She saw him.
And I don't mean she saw his tangible form, though she could stand here and rattle off the clothes he was wearing and the look on his face when he expressed his insecurity. What I mean is, she saw him, the essence of his being, the fibers of his soul.
She saw him, she saw the emptiness, she saw the brokenness that's hidden behind a beautifully crafted appearance of total confidence. He lives inside a Broadway Show, one that masks his suffering. She saw the pain he holds and the burdens he carries, because he tries so hard to be kind to the world, when it's obvious by the glimpse she caught of his heart that the world hasn't been kind to him.
She doesn't know why. He deserves to be loved more than anyone else she has ever met.
Gently, she lays a hand on his shoulder, but he changes the subject before she can say anything else. He says something funny, and even though she laughs, she wishes he wouldn't do that. She wishes he felt at liberty to be honest with her more often, but he is never honest with anyone. For all they know, his euphoric, infectious smile is his honesty.
She knows better, and in knowing, she is not turned away. In fact, she loves him more. He does not need to clean up for her. She loves him, despite who he is - no, because of who he is - and no truth about him will change that.
She has seen him, and she loves him, anyway.