When I was a baby, about a year and a half old, Mom, Dad and I lived in a townhouse in Reston. My Mom had some friends over, one of which has a daughter about 10 months younger than myself, Nikki. They all went upstairs, I had stayed down watching tv (or something like that.) My Mom said that everyone upstairs thought they heard the front door open, so they rushed downstairs to make sure I was all right. The front door was open and two of the purses were missing (Two of my Mom's friends,) while I was, unharmed, standing up leaning on the coffee table. I often wonder what would've happened to me if I had been kidnapped that night.
I was thinking about that a minute ago, not really sure why I typed it up.
I clam up when I'm told that I'm beautiful or gorgeous, I just don't know how to respond to that. I don't see it, I don't understand how you can see it, so I don't know what to say. If I don't see it...it can't be true. I wish I could be a supermodel with a killer body girls evied and the face of a goddess, I wish that peoples' breath was caught in their throat when I entered a room.
I wish I could see what he sees.
