She stood at the bathroom mirror, staring at her imperfect reflection. She wished she was perfect. She remebered what her mother said,
Honey, no one’s perfect. Work with what you got!
She disregarded this completely. If she wasn’t perfect,than what was she good for? All she wanted was to meet the lips of him. A slice of him, she thought. to drink in the lust of his nearness. But her imperfection blocked any chances of this. She found so much fault in herself. What was she to do? She pondered this as she toyed with makeup, looking more like a clown with every stroke of mascara, every layer of blush. But she did this to cover her true feelings. Everyone’d be too focused on her lack of makeup skill to worry about how ugly she was.