Am I beautiful?

Am I captivating?

Do you see me?

When I first met you, I trusted you enough to catch me if I fell. You did, and though you couldn't physically sweep me off my feet ... you caught me.

And you barely knew who I was.

I constantly ask these questions - and I didn't used to know that I did. All my life I have asked, "Am I lovely? Do you think I am pretty? Do I matter to you?"

To me you are strong enough. Do you believe that? Do you ask that of me? Would you dare to say it aloud?