I've never been much of a gardener.
Someone asks me to water the flowers, I'll forget within the hour. Someone asks me to collect the vegetables, I'll end up pulling out the entire plant by the root. One time, I ended up in trouble with my sixth grade teacher because I neglected the plants I was supposed to be feeding. It's been a rough twelve years - for the plants, that is.
In other words, I'm less than perfect. Not just gardening-wise, either, though that whole situation is completely hopeless to even try to improve. I've never been an approachable person. I've never been a ten. Heck, I'd be surprised if I was even a five. I don't wear size two dresses. I don't even wear dresses! I'm not feminine, but I'm a girl. Growing up like that has been pretty difficult, but I can't change.
Not for the better, anyways.
I was born on January eighteenth, just about twenty-one years ago in Munich, Germany. I moved here to America ten years ago in an exchange program, along with my sister and a couple of other European students. My days in Germany are extremely hazy. I can't remember anything about my past. My first memory was waking up in my father's car, the song 99 Luftballons blaring on the radio. Stereotypical for a German family to be listening to, but that's just how it went.
That was when I was eleven, right before I was accepted into the exchange program.
Things have changed since then.
Me? Not so much.
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Sinful Nostalgia | Hetalia
Fanfiction*Final Edition* Monica gets nostalgic when she meets Feliciano. Feliciano goes head over heels when he meets Monica. The two have fates that run deeper than the New York substation, and that's saying more than enough. Everyone can see it. Everyone...
