She perceived herself as pretty average. Her looks weren’t unique. She didn’t stand out in any way, shape, or form. But being painted wasn’t what she expected. Seeing herself through one’s eyes shed a whole new light on her self-image. He painted what he saw, and time and time again, he told her the paintings were from a source of great beauty. She was his ”muse,” he told her. The memories of their times together run through her mind as the silence of the night wades around the two. They lay in bed together in that silence the same night, and he whispered he loved her. She believed him and softly whispered it back. It didn’t take long for him to show uninterest. The signs were minor at first. Almost unnoticeable. Those three words he whispered to her all those nights ago became untrue. And in the end, she wondered if at any were they ever told in truth or was it all a lie? The answer was evident when he had moved on. he found a new muse to whisper fake ”I love you’s” to. and she knew that would be his latest victim.