"Oh God it's summer again," I say to myself in disgrace. I hate summer! Well not entirely, just the showing off more skin part. My skin is as dark as a Hershey's bar and I don't need to get to any darker. Guys don't really like that, nor do they like short hair or curves.

I mean, not that I should care. I do have a boyfriend and he loves me, but, I sigh again and take one more look at myself in the mirror in our bathroom and immediately shut the lights off. I migrate to the living room with my phone in hand and plop on the couch beside him. We were watching re-runs of Empire. I don't really take an interest in the show, so I grab my phone and cozy up to him.

I have exactly all of the social media accounts you can possibly think of. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, and my personal favorite, Snapchat. I just love to know what's what and who's who! I just get a rush every time I see new fashion, new gossip and things my life doesn't consist of.

Do I have and obsession? No.

As I check Instagram, I go straight for my feed. I always know what to look for. Rihanna, who's as fine as ever, and 'oh look a new Kylie Lip Kit!' Maybe I will get one? 'Yeah right, like anyone of those shades will ever blend in well with your skin tone,' I say to myself harmfully. I shake my head and adjust next to him.

I scroll down some more and more just to find yet another body image pic. No, she's not a Kardashian or a Jenner. She's some underground model with a lot of fan base. She is nude and literally showing off her "assets." I don't hate on women who show off what they have, I just wish I could do that. I know it sounds dumb, but I really do. I don't want to show off my body in that way but I do want some attention. Not that my boyfriend doesn't give me more attention that I need, it's just different and hard to explain.

'Girl Stop! You are a normal person. Even if you had that body or skin complexion you wouldn't do anything different. Just Stop,' I say doubtfully in my head. I sigh holding back tears and again I move from under him but this time to the other side of the couch. He looks at me harshly as if he was the one who was bothered. I'm the one with the problem here! He's a guy, what in the hell could he know or see what is wrong with me. Yes, he is light skinned and easy on the eyes so what's his problem?

"Can you not?" he yells. I look over to him sharply.

"Not what?," I said. "You just... your always on your phone and you don't even realize any of it!", he said. I stop and think for a second. "It's not like I'm talking to anyone. I mean seriously I'm not," I said sarcastically.

He then quickly got up and stood right in front of me with his chest puffed up. I didn't know what to think at that moment, but I felt threatened.

"You can't be serious?" I said jokingly.

"Get up!" he shouted.

I couldn't believe how he was acting. All this because of my phone? I sat there looking at him looking at me for the weakest link. He lunged at me and slapped my phone right out of my hand! As I watched my phone hit the ground and slide across the floor, I got pissed. "What the hell," I screamed. He stared at me silently still waiting for his command to be followed. "Are you serious!," I continued.

Still, he stood in front of me and did nothing. I started to cry, shout, and get angrier and angrier but for some reason, he wouldn't budge. Finally, I had enough. I went for my phone until suddenly he grabbed my hand and picked me up like a rag doll and threw me over his shoulder. I was so confused. When he does this were usually just playing around but he's mad, why? I struggle to get down.

As he sternly fought against my struggle for his release, we ended up in our bathroom. I stopped. He gently put me down as I back away from him in fear. His face looks sad.

"You don't even know it, do you," he asked softly.

I breathe heavily and try to register what the hell just happened.

"Baby, you're beautiful," he said.

"What? How does that have anything to do wi-," he stopped me mid- sentence.

"You are my Queen, my black Egyptian Queen. You don't need to compare because there is only one you. Stop getting mad at what you don't have," he said. "You have such gorgeous smooth dark skin and I love that. It hurts and it's disrespectful not only to you but to me whenever you speak ill over yourself. Queens don't do that. I've never loved anyone like you."

He positioned me in front of our mirror as I burst into tears. I stood in front of the mirror scared like my reflection was going to be a surprise. I could feel his breath on my neck and he gently hugged me from behind. I became flustered and thoughts were making sense again. We both stared at me as if I was a work of art. He was still hugging me ever so tightly and made sure I was feeling like the most beautiful girl in the materialistic world.

"Look again until you see what I see. Believe me, I see more than you can see," he whispered as he kissed my shoulder.