She is perfection personified.. Beautiful, smart, funny; yet kind and gentle, all at the appropriate times. She always knows what to say, and what to do, and she can read me like I read books.

And then there’s me. A socially awkward bookworm who doesn’t get out enough, and makes a fool of herself when she tries anything. I mean, I make a fool out of myself every day when I’m around her.

I wonder what she sees in me, how can I ever be good enough? But she loves me, so there must be something I’m good at, right?