I am not strikingly beautiful. I do not make anyone stop in their tracks. I do not cause people to loose their words. My smile does not enchant anyone. The curls of my hair do not inspire sonnets. My eyes are not the type you go swimming in. But you loving me made me feel as if maybe I was. Maybe all the rusty and broken pieces of me could be shiny and whole again. 
And in the end, I was right. At least for a little while.