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WERE | That I loved you, you became my definition of beauty. You were so self-conscious, so insecure in your appearance; you feared a mirror but even more you feared my eyes. It tortured me that I had failed you so, failed to make you understand that you were my ideal. I could not see perfection in a cheek that did not have the scar that yours did, in a physique that was not in exactness to your own. The most lauded unobtainable models had nothing in my eyes to you. I judged everyone else by you and they all fell short.