The individual droplets from the shower head slid their way down onto the surface of my already damp skin one by one. As the steam engulfed me in its sweat and thickness, as the fog threatened to succumb me under its tyrannical force, a subconscious lingering thought suddenly dawned on me. There will always be someone more interesting than I. Someone with a slightly more chiseled jaw structure, a button nose with a rounder tip that completely dismantles my thin pointed one, wider hips, and curvaceous thighs. She will have browner smoother silkier skin that one can drown in, bouncier hair, kaleidoscope eyes, and most importantly; a slightly more captivating affinity for life. She will form better sentences with a huskier, sexier, timid yet confident voice. She will hold the whole world on her shoulders but will cease to crumble under its weight. Any man with any sense of morale will find her captivating while I wait on the sidelines for my turn. You see, I can be that. I am that. That is who I want to be to a physical body, one that also captivates me. Though it seems, there have been lucrative counts of almosts and never weres. I have encountered an endless mass of feigned interests yet no real attempt at indulging. I have yet to find someone willing to engage and decipher my multidimensional frame of being. A human being who will unravel me from my tightly woven skin. I am keen, I am open, I am here, I exist. Let me be and we can be; together.