This is really cliche and cheesy, but I kind of like it. If you recognize it, I had it posted earlier on here, before my mom made me take down all my stories. But now, I'm back!

'You know you're just a burden to Phil. You should be glad he has enough heart to pity you and act a relationship for you. He doesn't really love you. You should just end it right now. It would improve the world as a whole. Go on. Do it.' Each horrific sentence flying through my mind is attached to a bright red line newly carved in my arm. It's not like I want to feel this way. I wanted Phil to love me, but the derogatory terms were drilled into my head from my childhood.

I sat on the bathroom floor, shredding my arms. Tears occasionally splashed on the cuts, and harsh sops escaped my mouth.

Phil, my lovely boyfriend, had gone to Starbucks to get something for the two of us. I was feeling "lazy" and didn't go with him. Honestly, I just needed relief. I had quit for two weeks for Phil, but I finally gave into the itching in my arms.

Out of nowhere, I heard the front door open, then close. "Dan?"

"Bathroom" I called out meekly, knowing he would find out sooner or later about my relapse. I heard him kick off his shoes, and pad over to the bathroom.

"You alright?" he called through the door, obviously noticing the small sobs escaping me.

"No…" I whimpered, "You can come in, but you really don't want to see me like this."

The door slowly creaked open, and Phil's dark hair and ice blue eyes appeared around the corner. As soon as he saw my weak form lying in the corner, he sprinted over to me, and pulled me into a tight hug.

"Why?" He asked, tears in his eyes, as he wet a washcloth in the sink.

Immediately, I started sobbing hysterically.

Phil dropped to the ground, set the washcloth to the side, and pulled me into his lap. Stroking my hair, rocked me back and forth, whispering, "Shh, shh. Dan, it's alright. I just want to know why. I love you."

"That's exactly why!" I cried, putting my head in my hands.

Shocked, Phil looked at me and hoarsely whispered, "You want to break up?"

"No, no, no, no, no! I just wish you would stop faking. I know you don't love me, nobody does. I'm just a burden. And even if you did love me; I don't understand why. I'm just a stupid, ugly boy with emotional problems. I can't even deal with my stress like a sane person; I just carve my skin. Why do you act, Phil; why do you put up with me?"

"Dan, Dan, sweetheart, I don't 'put up' with you, I love you. You are beautiful, smart, and funny. I don't mind your emotional problems. They make you a stronger person. And about the cutting, we can and will get through it! I love you. Always have, and always will."

I turned around, muttering, "I really wish you'd quit lying."

Giving an exasperated sigh, Phil gently turned my face toward his, so I was looking straight into his eyes. They looked so sad. "Dan, listen to me. I would never lie to you. I love you so much. I honestly believe every single word I said. They are all completely, 100% true. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you."

"Okay, I guess." I sighed. Phil had started dabbing at my cuts. I still didn't believe him, but as I watched him concentrated on cleaning up the mess that was me, I felt his loving words start to slowly push away the depression smothering me.

When he finished cleaning and bandaging my cuts, Phil pushed me off his lap, pulled me to my feet, and wrapped me in a hug.

After a few minutes, he pulled away, holding me by my shoulders, and saying, "Next time you feel this way, I want you to call, or talk to me. I am going to help you though this."

Our coffees had been sitting on the counter, but they were cold by now. So Phil chunked them, and pulled me to my room.

Lying on my bed, I curled into Phil's side, and just listened to his breathing. Neither of us was talking, but I really didn't want to. Just laying here with someone that told me he loved and cared about me was a nice break from my normal depressive routine.

Out of the blue, Phil said, "You know Dan, you should really decorate your ceiling with something that will make you smile right before you go to sleep. It will keep you happy."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't know what to decorate it with." I said, turning to look at him, as he peered up at my ceiling. He was obviously imagining something to put up there.

Deep thought must tucker him out, because a few minutes later, I heard light snores emitting from his throat. I curled tighter into his side, pulled the cover over the both of us, and fell asleep.

I awoke the next morning, expecting to see Phil lying in bed beside me. Oddly enough, he wasn't there, and his spot was cold, so he must have been gone a long time. Stretching, I got out of bed, and went into the lounge to play some Skyrim, and wait for Phil.

There was a note taped on the TV. Coming closer, I realized it was from Phil. It read:

I knew you would come here first! Don't worry

Danosaur, I just went to PJ's to get him to do

something for me. Why don't you go into town?

I'm sure you could use it. I'll be back by dinner time.

xxx- Phil

Smiling at the x's at the end of his note, I realized he was right. I should go out to town. So I went to get ready.

About an hour later, I was walking out the door. First I headed to Starbucks.

About 7 pm, I was in the lift, going back up to the flat. 'It seems like Phil wanted me out of the house.'

Still pondering this, I stepped out of the lift, unlocked the door, and walked into the flat.

Walking into the kitchen, I noticed Phil already sitting at the table with takeaway for two.

After dinner, Phil and I cuddled together on the couch. He lay across the back, and I lay snuggled into his chest. His arm was wrapped protectively around my waist. We watched MasterChef for multiple hours.

Eventually, my eyelids started drooping. I heard Phil whisper, "Go get dressed for bed, I'll be there soon."

I got up and shuffled into my room, already half asleep.

As I was bent over my dresser, picking out my pajama pants, I saw something bright out of the corner of my eye.

Turning towards the color, I saw a beautiful mural on the ceiling above my bed. It was filled with word such as "beautiful", "hilarious", "lovely", and pictures of Phil and i.

I turned around, tears blurring my vision, to see Phil standing by my bed.

Tackling him in a giant bear hug, I kissed his lips sweetly. We hit the bed with a soft 'thump', still wrapped in our hug.

"I love it, and I love you!" I exclaimed, extreme joy apparent in my voice.

I pulled the blankets over us, and Phil whispered, "Now do you believe me?"

"Yes, yes, I love you." I whispered before snuggling into his chest.

Right before sleep overtook me, I heard Phil say, "I'll love you forever, my beautiful Danosaur."

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