Before I had any notion of personality or character the first thing I knew about myself was that I was damaged goods. I wasn't up to snuff and as soon as I was old enough they were going to try to patch me up and make me more acceptable. Some people say "looks don't matter" but they might as well say "You're ugly, but don't worry about it. Old people can see past appearances."
      I became convinced nearly from the start that no boy would want my heart so I gave it a funeral and buried it alive. Ever since I've been sitting by it's grave telling it stories of girls whose hearts were wanted; girls who had problems and sometimes scars but never that inherent ugliness.
     I think, I hope, I am slowly beginning to unearth it again. I'm not sure what I'll find really.