I asked him how i looked, he said like a million bucks. I smiled, but i had hoped to be described as a good club with bad beer and country songs playing on the radio. I wanted people to see me and feel that nervous joy that line dancing woman engrained in the minds of men as they tipped their cowboy hats at them. Maybe my stride could be lined with the breath of a fan caught in their hero’s gaze, or i could summon the charm of laughing woman as i showed my teeth. I want to be more than pretty. I want to be that feeling that makes listening to sad songs in the rain enduring, I want people to see me and feel like they’re sinking. That’s what true beauty is. To be so gorgeous that it hurts.