Fat. Ugly. Nerd. Stupid. Worthless. To some, those are just words, but to me, they're just knives, slicing and maiming my skin until it's even more imperfect than it was to start with. My body is made up of scars and lacerations, but they are visible only to me. Through the cracks in the mirror, I see the fissures that try desperately to hold themselves together, just a ghost of the girl I used to be. The people closest to me see me with rose-colored goggles, only seeing my smile and makeup and my appearance on the surface. No one sees the tragic wreck I have become on the inside. Maybe it's because I'm really good at hiding. Maybe it's because my smile distracts from the brokenness. Maybe it's because I don't allow anyone close to me, and I don't allow them to see what lies beneath the surface. Or maybe it's because no one has ever cared enough to look. Except for him. He's never seen me as anything more or less than what I am. His goggles are off, and he sees me. All of me. He sees it all. And he loves it all. But when the storm comes, threatening to break us both, will he be strong enough to take it all?