It’s a nice thought to know for sure that you didn’t fall for me because of my face. After all, who can look pretty after a hard workout on a hot day in track? You know, grody face with white residue from a combination of sweat and sunscreen, hair flopping around wildly as if it’s trying to escape from what’s holding it in a ponytail, bangs all over the place and stuck on my forehead, drenched in my sweat, not to mention wearing the not-too-attractive running outfit: baggy t-shirt and shorts.
Maybe, just maybe, you’d find a track girl attractive when she was wearing her spandex and tight top (after all, you did take a good look at those girls and point out that they’re wearing thongs), or maybe when she stripped off her baggy t-shirt and ran in a pretty sports bra with her bare belly exposed.
But I never took off my shirt and bared my body, and I only wore those spandex shorts four times during meets. So I can happily say that you didn’t fall for me because I was pretty. The majority of the time you didn’t see me in my pretty state. I love it. I love how you fell for my personality, I love how I fell for you without even considering your pretty face, I love how we became a couple the way I wanted it, two close friends realizing they had feelings for each other. I love almost every aspect of our relationship and how special it is, I love you from inside to outside. I’m proud that our physical appearance was irrelevant in the process of falling for each other.