I don't know what you saw in me.

No. I’m not fishing for compliments here.

Just curious if you would ask me.

You see, I’m not your type. I know that.

I’m not the pretty, shy girl who smiles like an angel that fell from the sky.

No, I am not.

I’m not the sexy, alluring girl in her cheerleader’s uniform who astounds the crowd with her God-given gifts.

Definitely not.

I’m not even the braided-and-glasses girl at the bleachers, staring lovingly at a football player, hoping that someday he would notice her existence.

Sigh. I wish I were, but I'm not.

You see, I’m just well, me.

Normal to others, boring to some.

So normal that you wouldn’t even notice me in a crowd.

Like some blurry image that passes by in this mundane life, you...