Just A Lookalike
You asked me why I have such a hard time believing that you could love me for me. Not because I remind you of anyone else and certainly not because I’m another version of the One That Got Away, but because I am exactly who you want.
You sighed and tears pooled in your eyes, confused as to what led to my disbelieving nature and my cynical side-eyes.
It’s not you. It had nothing to do with you.
I used to work at a frozen yogurt shop. I mainly worked with one other guy and ironically, you guys share the same name. I was clumsy and he was at my aid, annoyed but still picked up after my messes. I was grateful.
One night before closing, he gazed at me intensely and asked: “Can I squeeze your face?” My mouth opened and closed like a shocked fish, unsure of what to say. I had never gotten that kind of request before. Insecure about my chubby cheeks, I vehemently denied his continuous requests until I eventually gave in days later. I allowed him to contort my face into an ugly look just so he would stop asking, and when he dropped his hands from my face, he said, “I knew it.”
I immediately felt uneasy. Knew what? Had he been trying to prove something to himself all along? I was confused. “What are you talking about?” I…
