Sometimes I wonder if other people, like me, stare into the mirror and wonder if they're pretty.

I mean, you're always going to be pretty to someone, but there will always be people who cringe in your prescence.

I just wonder which side has the majority of people on it, the adorers or the cringers.

When I describe myself, I can make it sound so lovely:

Raven dark hair down the middle of her back, full, pink lips and alabaster skin that could rival any ivory. Green eyes with rings of red-brown around the pupals, long, curled lashes, and standing tall with a curved waist, rounded in all the right places.

On the other hand, when I look into the mirror, I usually see:

Fuzzy, non-descript dark hair that can't decide whether it's curly or straight, a mouth too small for her large face, and somewhat less than smooth sickly pale skin. Swampwater eyes with creepy rings of red around the pupals, smears of purplish darkness underneath her eyes from too much stress and too little sleep. A chin too strong to be pretty, eyebrows too bushy, oval face too asexual, high cheekbones rounded over with balls of cheek, jawline too undefined, nose to large and hooked. Standing unnusually tall, and chubby, with tits and ass to match.

There is nothing I can and will to about my face. A smaller nose would look unnatural on my, as I mentioned earlier, strong featured face.

Did I also mention I have a fat head?

I wear the largest size of hat I've ever seen available.

7 5/8, I believe.

I'm sure custom larger are available, but in general sizes, I've rarely seen one got over.

It depresses me when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrors at work sometimes, and I think:

"Who the hell would want me?"

Then Mike walks into the restaurant, and his whole face lights up, and there's this little mischevious sparkle in his eye and I know he's going to give me a hard time, even though he's trying to act all casual like.

He never fools me.

I usually start giggling before he even sits down.

He came home today, by the way. Beat. He has hardly slept since Monday.

I bought him a coffee (which I forgot to pay for, oops! I'll have to do that tomorrow).

I was about to turn and leave his table when:

"Commere."

"Hmm?"

"Come over here."

So I went back and he draped his arms tiredly around my waist and hugged me close (he was sitting, me, standing), resting his head on my belly and giving that exhaused-yet-glad-to-be-home-and-with-woman-sigh.

"Thanks for doing my dishes."

I couldn't help but smile over my coffee pot and handful of creamers.

He's so cute.

*sigh*

.

Rosie.

Before&After