I sat her down, right on the cold linolium of the dorm room.
She looked frightened and uneasy.
Frequently she looked to her right to see if anyone would come through the door.
Silence.
In my head I whispered, "How do I begin this?"
Silence still.
An itching crawled up my Indian-style-sitting legs.
We were both very uncomfortable.
I spoke first.
"I know. I understand how it is to want to be something you can't. But you need to realize what it is that you are."
She looked me straight in the eye for what felt like eternity.
She still didn't see what I saw.
She looked back at me and only saw that five more pounds.
She only saw the thighs,
the hips,
the stomach.
She saw me and thought, I can be better.

She got up to leave, tired of wanting perfection.
Of course, I stood too.
She gave me one last glimpse in the mirror, shook her head in disgust and left.
But I'll be there again.
I'm always there.
Whenever she wants to see me, all she has to do is sit in front of that mirror.
I'll be looking back.

I just wish she thought I was as beautiful as I think she is.