What if? What if you did not like yourself if you happen to meet one day in the future? What if the traits you have toiled on so hard over the decades meant nothing in the eyes of another, another whose opinions you value? What if your greatest accomplishments were only scorned at? The things you took pride in, mere and minor occasions to the grand events surrounding you.
What if you saw that your eyes lacked the luster lovers saw in one another, the one mothers only saw in their child; your skin was not as fair like those products that promised you and made you believe, giving you instead an almost lurid complexion; your smile, feebly hindered behind your lips, something short of the dawn's glory; your laugh, a song you sing so often to show off your happiness translated into cacophonous tunes of broken strings.
What if you believed to see only the worst in yourself?
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