I always knew I was different, and outcast. An alien in human flesh, destined to wander this strange planet alone. Then I saw him, sitting across the cafeteria.

Wearing a nice white hoodie that made his incredibly pale skin seem almost more tan than possible. His hood was half up, but the front bit of his hair tumbled out. Golden and blonde, drooping nest his eye level, as I neared his eyes themselves, I blushed furiously. They were brown and green and hazel and all of the warmest colors, I could see right into them.

Wait. I can see right in to them. He’s looking right at me. His eyes traveled to my hair, boring brown, very messy — what I call “rustic” or “bed head beauty” — then continued on to my attire, tracing my shape with his eyes, and motioning to the chair across from him. Oh buddy. I cautiously went and sat down.

“So how was your day?” He asked kindly.

“Well, to be honest, I was feeling pretty worthless until a moment ago. School sucked and work wasn’t the best, but at least I brought cookies.” I said cautiously.

He laughed, telling me I have worth and reminding me of Gods love. I am no alien.