I wouldn't mind that. With you. We're both white females, the same age, with freckles, and fairly tall, but you are delicate in parts; wrists, ankles. You've got a long, refined nose, and high cheekbones. Huge eyes. Tapered hands, long, elegant limbs. Not that it makes any difference, because you just want to hop and skip all over the place when we're together. You're quiet and shy, or you act the fool, and don't really seem to think about the grace you exude. Or strength, maybe it's a strength. Unknown grace. Amazing. You've got a chest, too. I am the inverse; my nose is short where yours is long, my limbs are stocky and most often used to open jars. I am broad, almost masculine, with no remarkable breasts, though there have been those that have remarked that I am graceful. Nobody guesses that I am masculine, as a result of my predilection for skirts. Though I occasionally look at pictures of myself and wonder whether a drag queen wouldn't have done a more convincing job. I don't mind my appearance, particularly. I don't like ageing, but I can get used to it. I'm gradually coming to terms with my build.
In any case, darling, it would be a privilege to grow to look like you. Though I prefer looking at you.
Do you laugh whilst looking shy with everyone that much, or is it just me? I'm going to torture myself with this question a while longer. Ugh.
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