Perfect

I'm 21 years old, though at times I look like 12 (or 34). I'm only five feet three inches tall (or short), just like Jessica Simpson. Yes, Jessica Simpson, and no, I don't know why I had to put her in. I have the frame that Anorexics and Bulimics are trying so hard to achieve. About 85 % of the people I have talked to on the phone mistook me for the opposite sex. I have a forehead that's the size of the moon and a neck that's at par with a giraffe's. I am in love with music even though I sing like a strangled cow. I appreciate boring movies and I cry even at the most inappropriate scenes. I'm corny, sappy, and dramatic. I hate mess but I'm too lazy to be organized. I'm smart but not so much. I have a good memory, but it only works on things that don't matter. I could go on, but I'd rather stop.

I am not perfect and, yes, I'm not even close. But I'm hoping that someday I'd meet someone who I would be perfect for and would be perfect for me. And when that time comes, no matter how crazy the world would be, I know everything would turn out to be perfect. Just wait and see.