I resent that I'll never be the type of girl that's loved for the little things.
Like her beautiful smile, or her silly laugh, for her petite body or the way she loves animals and drinks matcha in the mornings. Her stunning eyes, which you can't take yours away from, just her inevitable beauty.
If you were to love me, you'll have to dig deep, really search for the things that'll make me worthy of your fascination. And then, if you did, I'll have to be constantly keeping these in check. Nurturing my brain so I'll never be boring, holding my mouth as to not appear loud, reading, so I can tell you stories and facts, but not enough of them so that I overshadow your brightness.
And God forbid the day that girl glances your way, smiles a little, cracks a joke, waves her hair. And you'll glance her way, noticing her effortless charm, and then you'll never ever look back.
