and here's something I'm wondering.
who says that we can't adore imperfections?
because :
the cowlick that is every bit of its name in the part of my hair is my favorite.
it's messy and bothersome sometimes, yes.
but i've had it since i was little,
and that is enough to be proud of it, because i've carried it from six into sixteen.
would you be embarrassed if i told you i check for laugh lines by my eyes?
i look in mirrors and give my best red carpet grin and pretend there are creases that say i laugh.
most people don't want crows feet.
but i'm not most people.
that bump on the ridge of my nose?
i secretly love it.
i read somewhere that almost every woman hates her nose. i used to.
but there's something about hearing, "you have the maxson nose!"
that makes me feel like i'm home.
and
ooooh.
if this was chocolate mousse, i'd be swirling my spoon in the empty glass.
I can't get enough of freckles.
i count the ones on my nose and wait until summertime when they're as thick as paint splatters
i love finding them on my cheeks. would you laugh if i said that they're sun kisses?
(i'll wax poetic anyways and learn to say it in ten different languages, because freckles are my fav)
what's the deal with perfection anyways?
i know this : it's vastly overrated.
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