We were play arguing in your car one night, debating about girls vs guys insecurities and how they’re confusing. I was telling you how I don’t understand why guys hate their ***** and you told me you don’t get it why girls cake their face. We went on and on, trying to defend each our points until I blurted out “but I love your ****!” And you said to me “well you’re beautiful!” And I went quiet. I scared you actually, you didn’t understand my sudden silence but I think thats the first time I’ve ever been called beautiful with that sort of passion. I’m the type of girl who fishes for compliments, I act slutty and start a little drama because I know it’ll get a reaction. Busting out my cleavage and showing my *** will get me comments from "you’re ****” and “you’re pretty” and I believe them. I love it when you see me naked after *** and call me hot or when I fish for compliments and you say I’m beautiful but this time was all different. I didn’t lead this on. I didn’t expect for that to be your comeback. I didn’t know how to react. Those 3 words echoed in my head for the rest of the night. And I will never forget the way you looked at me with some sort of sorrow or plead or anger when you said it. You wanted me to believe it for once. You wanted me to understand that the way I feel about my beauty is the way you feel about your **** but all that I could care about is the way you looked at me and not the road and told me that I was beautiful. I still can’t figure out what emotion was in your eyes and tone of voice. You were loader than usual which usually indicates anger but there was plead in your eyes. As if you really needed me to know this. And even though, calling myself beautiful is something I don’t know I can ever do, I now know that you really mean it. You saw my naked my body and nothing ****** happened and at the end of the day, you called me beautiful. My beauty isn’t a temporary thing you only every often see and I only now realized that. I love you (and your ****).