So, at start I wasn't a big fan of Amy. But episode after episode, the girl continue growing in me. And then, I was writing this. Is not perfect, it probably has a lot of mistakes, misspellings and typos. But I totally could relate to that façade of her and, hey, I have to take this out of my system.
Also I'm trying to improve my writing skills, so if you have some suggestions, please make them so I can improve!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Beautiful.
I never ever felt beautiful before. Sure, there was a couple of times when I looked at the mirror and thought "I look fine". But just that, no awesome, pretty or gorgeous for me. Can you blame me? I wasn't the one that turned all the heads while entering to a classroom. That was Elaine, the blond cheerleader; or Ana, the voluptuous latina. Not me. Never. Ever.
My mother used to tell me all the time that I was her most precious gift. And I smiled, how couldn't I? But I always thought that it was because I was a sweet, smart kid. What? Can't a girl just be honest? I know what I have, I admit it. I know I'm very smart, I had to have something, right? Because beautiful I am not.
When the graduation dance came in high school, my heart rate increased so much for the only fear to be the one left behind. No date, no guy, no prom. Nick walked by my side without noticed me, Mark did the same even when he asked me for help one week before. I guess he passed Biology, after all. Time came and probed I was right, nobody asked me and that broke my heart. I tried to be strong, really, because crying for a boy is pretty pathetic when there are so much other important things to cry about. But… that night, I felt like a child again and cried. So hard that I think I can cry again by only remembering it. Hard.
But I'm not weak, so I got over it I focused my efforts in work and school and other more important things. Who has time for boys and relationships? Not me. I didn't need them before, so I could live without them. True was… I felt kind of lonely. Very lonely actually. I haven't lots of friends or even a really good best friend, who could give her/his life for me. I was awkward and shy and smart. Not a good mix, let me tell you. But most of all, I wasn't pretty. Think that is not important? Try make friends feeling highly insecure about the way you look. Not easy.
So, dates weren't for me. Social nights nether. Lonely, ugly Amy Farrah. The deepest I went, the hardest was to get up and face the deal. And then… he appeared. Blame my mother, or his, whatever. But he came and change my life.
First, I made friends. Actual, real friends! Just as awkward as me, but awesome people. I laughed in a month more than I'd laughed before. Ever. And I started to feel better. I meet nice people and got to go out with the popular girl of high school. How cool was that?
And then, he actually started to grow up on me. Slowly, painfully slowly. Until one day I woke up and his name was the first thing in my head. And wanted to laugh and jump and laugh again. And call him, just to say "good day". Pathetic, I know. My behavior was like that of a teenager. So, that was the feeling of a crush. Interesting.
But he didn't show the same interest. And I keep pushing, and pushing. I couldn't anything else, could I? I didn't want to give up on him. Why? Because my sick mind was sure that he someday would feel the same way about me. Hahaha. Liar.
I saw my reflection once again. I wasn't pretty. I had a big forehead, a long long face and overweight. The dress that Penny picked for me wasn't favoring me. And in red, people would look at me and comment how not-beautiful I looked. Bernadette tried to put some make-up on me but I felt like a clown. And not a good one, because I didn't want to laugh. Weird, ha?
Time was passing by and I had to get going. That night was a dinner anniversary for us, not that made some difference but I had to try one more time. Just one. Then… well, a girl has to know when is enough.
I took off the precious dress (in Penny, not in me) and put another one. More discrete, more me. Black with a nice cleavage. I washed my face and, quickly as I could, put only a little lipstick in my lips. That would have to work.
I arrived tree minutes after eight. Or late, as he pointed blatantly pointed out. At least we could talk while waiting for the food. Or so I thought. He didn't think the same, apparently, for he kept watching the glass of wine that was a few centimeters from his own fingers.
I realized then that he would never look at me as I wanted. Suddenly there was that familiar lump in my throat. Huh, funny. I shouldn't cry there. Not in front of him. Not now. But my body never obeys me, and that wasn't the time to start.
It happened right after the tears filled my eyes. You know, it's not good to cry with glasses. It's not practical. I used to be a very practical lady, but those times seemed so far that I could care less. Where was I? Ah, right. It happened right after that. I felt his long hand in my face and my heart rate increasing again. That is always a terrifying sing for me. But I had to look up, I just had to do it. And my teary eyes met his, looking at me almost with interest or fear. Or worry, with Sheldon is hard to know. Even now it's very hard. He should come with a manual, but maybe that would only remove the fun.
His hand caress my chin and his gaze somewhat get softer. I couldn't speak. How could I, when he was so close to me that I could feel his breath in my lips? Was he going to kiss me? Wasn't he?
"What happen Amy Farrah Fowler? Are you sick", he asked with a little of concern in his voice. His deeper voice. When did his voice become deeper?
I denied with my head, cursing at myself for thinking for a brief moment that he would kiss me.
"Then, can you explain me why are you about to cry?"
I couldn't. But I could.
"I'm not beautiful".
And then… then he laughed. Clear and strong. "That's all?" he asked.
"I wish I could be beautiful, so you would find me attractive", I said in almost a whisperer, unable to keep going.
"Oh, my. You are so silly, Amy Farrah Fowler", he stopped laughing and became more serious. "Do you really think I care about that?" he didn't give me chance to answer when he continued "I don't care how you look. I mean, you are beautiful outside. You have big eyes, a cute smile and long, smooth hair. But that doesn't mean anything to me."
"You can put up with me, you keep me centered and you complete me. Do you know how lost I felt before I met you? And now, you're saying I don't find you attractive. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. You're kind and sweet and passionate. And unique. And I love you. Just, don't make me repeat myself, because I do. I don't love some girl of the magazines that Wolowitz use to "read". I love you Amy Farrah Fowler."
And he KISSED me. Sure, it was awkward. It was a little stiff and his hands weren't caressing my back or my head. And his lips were too dry. And mine were too thirsty. But, for me, it was enough.
I never ever felt beautiful in my life. Until that day, when I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world… or maybe not in the world, but you get it.
o.O.o.O.o
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