Application to the Forgiving for Consideration in Love

Dear Sir:

If I could know love, then I could love.

And perhaps I do. . .

I am a young woman, five-foot-six, with dyed black hair and green eyes.  When I was a child, the profile of my nose was like a ski slope.  I have a spot between my eyes from when I had chicken pox.  My lips are fat, but my cheeks are fatter.  I don't like how I look without make-up.  I always wanted to get compliments about my eyes, but I hardly ever do.

My body is confusing.  I have no waist, and my hips are too high.  My stomach is always a little fat.  My breasts hang down in a useless sort of way.  But worst of all are my thumbs:  One is longer than the other, and they're both too short.  And my fingernails are flat and boring.

Dear Sir, these are only the externals of what you will have to overlook in me.  I am cold, but emotional.  I am pretentious.  I am ungiving to the depths of my soul.  Deep within me is a calloused, dark thing that could cause me to deny your existence someday.

Shall I go on?  I'm self-centered and self-serving.  And self-righteous.  

Do you love me still?  I am demanding.  I am moody.  I am reserved.

If, kindly, you will give me a chance, however, I might be able to find what you want.  For I do have a smile.  And I do have a look.  And when I dress up to go out, I really can look great.

And I've got a strength.  I've got a power.  I am intelligent, but not obnoxious.  I enjoy happiness, but I have serious concerns.  I love doing things for people.  I love people.  And life.  And this, I might share with you.

Dear Sir, please, take this hand, and hold this wretched thumb.  Take my eyes and behold them as emeralds.  Take my heart, and feel the strength and the energy that pumps my blood.  My love beckons you.

Dear Sir, please overlook what I have learned to overlook in myself.  If you will bear the burden of my shortcomings -- if, in fact, you will see some beauty in me -- then I am yours, all yours, for eternity.

- Jan 4. 1986, A.D.