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If you could see past the beauty you'd see the bruises she refuses to show, nobody can know he's abusive because she thinks if she loses him she'll lose her identity. If you could see past the sarcasm you'd see someone who is afraid of being honest because they don't want to face the truth, if you only knew what they'd gone through you'd understand why they try so hard to make you laugh. If you could see past the weight you'd wait to pass your judgment and instead understand that the way you dissect them is only a fraction of the way they degrade themselves, and perhaps they don't need your opinion but an actual friend who adores every inch of their skin. If you could see past the prescription you'd see a life on a thread, not dead but not alive, because you tried to survive depression without losing feeling, and dealing with the problem isn't easy when your problems outnumbers the waves in the sea. If you could see past the muscle you'd see a boy who is nothing more than a silhouette because nobody cared who he was until he started playing sports and made homecoming court. So he trains through the pain and fear of losing everything he's ever worked for. If you could see pass the race you'd see a face that is beautifully unique but erased every trace of their culture from their Facebook because they've been ignorantly misunderstood and are scared of never fitting into this culture of Hollywood. If you could see past the age you'd see a spirit inside an old soul who is waiting to be asked what their story is, a lifetime of knowledge, laughter, and tears. But years of growth mean nothing if they're not acknowledged. If you could see past the pregnancy you'd see her praying for protection over a baby that was forged out of force, and of course you can't see that she never wanted to agree to this but she's stuck with the repercussions as he slips away without a single obstruction, and all she is left with is her shame and your judgment. If you could see past the first glance you took at these people you'd see that each one has a story to finish and to tell, and that they wish that someone would actually care, but instead you stare and you try to figure them out without a doubt that there might actually be more to them than meets the eye. I can't live like that. I want to see past the walls, smiles, lies because we all hurt. We need someone who knows the true story and not just the front cover. They should not suffer just because I'm too focused on myself to see who they are because it's not too far from my own war. I've worn a mask most of my life and filtered every flaw but I finished that act and I don't want your applause. I just want to live, love relentlessly, extensively, unconditionally, that means I choose to see every side of you, and love you even more than I did before, and now your war is mine and you don't have to try and do this alone, because if you could see through the eyes of someone who loves, you'll be slow to judge and quick to listen, and you won't just listen, you'll actually care and that, that's where I want to be! A place where everyone loves who they see.
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