Is that what's wrong with me?

My alarm clock started buzzing, and my eyes slowly opened. I rubbed them, sighing in defeat that I couldn't stay in bed any longer. I leisurely slipped out of bed, feeling the cold air meet my bare legs. I sat there for a second, just thinking. I stood up and headed towards the bathroom. I got in the shower and let the hot water pound on my back. I finished bathing, and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around myself, trying to keep the warmth in. I inched towards the foggy mirror, and used my hand to wipe some of the steam away. I looked at myself. Brown hair, blue eyes, freckles. I wasn't beautiful, I knew that. But I didn't think I was ugly. Without make-up, I looked about 13. With make-up, maybe 15 or 16. But I was right in the middle. I guess I never looked my actually age of fourteen years old. I didn't wear make-up. I told people that I didn't want to wear it. That wearing it was just hiding my inner beauty. But It was a load of crap. Truth is, I didn't wear make-up because I was lazy, and I thought I looked weird with it on. I touched my rosy cheek, feeling the smoothness. I touched my chin, then my nose. What was wrong with me? Was it my looks? Or my personality? The way I acted? I asked myself these questions almost every day. I felt lonely. Like nobody wanted to be around me, except for my family. I shook my head, pitying myself. I dried my hair and put on my jeans and sweatshirt. Was it my clothes? Was I not girly enough? Or stylish enough? I didn't buy clothes from Hollister or American Eagle. Is that why people didn't like me? I sighed, shook my head again, and left the bathroom. I knew I shouldn't, but I felt depressed. Like I didn't have friends that cared. That the only people that loved me were my parents. I loved tons of people though. My parents, brother, cousins, uncles, aunts, friends, and him. At that moment I closed my eyes and hung my head. Him. He barely knew I existed. Sure, we were both in the school play. Sure, we both had drama class together. But he never talked to me. But, I never talked to him. I didn't speak to him because I was nervous. I was scared if I said something, and it was wrong or stupid, he would hate me. My feet slapped against the kitchen floor as I got together my breakfast. In my eyes, he was perfect. He could do no wrong. But I knew he wasn't perfect. Far from it. But to me, he was. Every time I saw him smile, my heart would sing. Every time he would laugh, I would smile. Every time I unexpectedly saw him my heart would flutter and my breath would hitch. I put my bowl in the sink and went upstairs to brush my teeth. Was it my teeth? Was it because I had braces that people didn't like me? I shook my head yet again. Maybe someday, I thought. Maybe someday I would feel comfortable in my own skin. And maybe then people would like me. Maybe they would like me for me. Maybe for once I could feel loved, and not alone.