Hole in my SweaterMature

I stood staring at myself in the mirror, critically looking over every inch of my body. 

I have no curves. My face is disgusting. I look like a child. 

I sighed and turned away from the mirror then stared at the the outfit I had spent an hour picking out the previous night. I put it on, avoiding looking at my reflection, hoping that maybe I would look magical once I put it on and everything would be okay.

I didn't. There was always something that I could point out that I didn't like, down to hating the way I thought I looked perfect. Because I wasn't, and no matter how hard I tried to appear perfect, I wasn't. 

I didn't see myself as beautiful. And that was when my confidence started to crumble. The tears started to fill my eyes. 

Yanking out my shirt I threw on my sweater and ignored the mirror. I ignored the pressure of tears building behind my eyes and walked outside, again fingering the thread. 

Why can't I just be beautiful? 

The End

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