Occasoinally, you can meet someone so gorgeous they make you weak in the knees, and then find out that they think they're plain and unappealing. It makes you wonder things, like "who told this person such a lie?" or perhaps more importantly, "what made them ever believe it
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But there's always hope, as long as there exist people who care to carry watering cans. I'd like to think that, no matter how long-deserted or desolate a spot in one's heart may be, it's always possible for such lovely things as self-image to flourish. Of course, it's likely that the aforementioned watering would be in order, to soften up the soil a bit. And then, it's sometimes necessary to rearrange the terrain, since "fragile things" need warmth, which doesn't generally creep into holes so well on its own...
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