She liked being pretty; she wore lipstick and painted her nails, she thought about her hair, she was always wearing a new dress and rarely ate; but there was something she didn't trust about it, I could tell. Every time I called her beautiful she looked at me like I was lying.
It made me think of my mother. She always called me a handsome bullshitter. She said they were the saddest creatures on earth because everything came easy to them, then they did nothing with it.
...
The Hottest State by Ethan Hawke
"Well, trust her instincts. She's probably right. First of all, you're not exactly a piece of cake to be with."
"What'd you mean?"
"You're pretty skittish. You just don't seem like the kind of guy who would stick around."
"I don't like when people say things like that - everyone telling you something's true about yourself so much that you start believing it. I have to stop seeing her."
"Why?"
"Because...I'm scared out of my mind."
"Smart girls are tough. They're a pain in the ass," he said. He wasn't grasping the situations urgency.
"There's a difference between a someone who's smart and someone who doesn't like you."
We were silent for a while.
"Sometimes I think if I could get her to love me, then that would mean everything I don't like about myself would've disappeared."
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