You’re not good for me. You have a tendency to destroy the self-confidence I so carefully built. You are God-like to me, Julian. You’re this amazing, beautiful being, with few imperfections. How can I compare? How can I picture someone like me standing next to you? Yet you love me. Every day you tell me how beautiful you think I am and how lucky you are to have me. But I still have this mental block, because you are so much more beautiful than I and I have a hard time believing that I could actually snag a man like you.
Before you came along, I loved my self. Every curve, every roll, every stretch mark, every mole. I loved it all. I looked in the mirror and thought, “Damn, I look so good.” I knew I could have any man I wanted. But then I got the one I wanted, and everything changed. You’re too beautiful. You make me feel inferior. Insecure. Ugly. Regardless of how many times you tell me I’m beautiful, it’s like it’s too good to be true.
Knowing all of this, I still can’t walk away. You spoil me. I know you’re not good for my confidence (and it is all my fault, really. If I would just get over this block, you’d be perfect for me) but I can’t walk away. I want more. I want to feel you all the time, feel your hands on my skin, your eyes on mine. Your taste on my tongue.
Oh Julian, my shining star, my god of love. How you torment me.