Which means she loves me...?

By now you've realized that you can't see it. You can't see what anyone else sees in you; your eyes must be broken. You can't see why someone wouldn't lie to you when they say you're beautiful, you can't see why someone isn't just messing with your head, or playing games, you just can't see it.

She said you're beautiful.

She said you're beautiful, and she wasn't lying.

No, she said I was beautiful. Me.

And... was she lying?

If she was, that's all right too. I guess I'll just get over it, because when you're beautiful, people only love you one way.And that way isn't so fun. Not really.

And... and she said she loved me.

Which is... which is the good kind of love, she said. Whatever I was comfortable with.

Whatever I am comfortable with.

I love her, too. Of course I love her too. How could I not? She's amazing.

But... I can't keep myself from thinking she was lying to me, or it was someone else on her account, messing with me. Or even, even she was just joking, and she won't remember this in the morning, or the afternoon, or ever.

But I said I loved her too. And I do.

I love her more than she'll ever know.

And love hurts, so I'm just going to have to go with this.

Just take a deep breath, and keep moving.