You Grew Into Your Nose, Brown Girl

“I guess it's like how I want a nose job and I don't ever actually do it.” I giggled on Omar’s couch. 

He smiled and shook his head, making his curls flop around. “You don't need to do that.” He replied gently. 

In an effort not to get into a back and forth with him where he tries to make me feel better because that's what he’s supposed to do, I said “your nose looks like a nose job”. 

When Omar moves his face, it's more animated than you would expect a man with his vibe to be. He has a huge smile filled with big, healthy teeth. His eyes are expressive and doe-like. He used them together to make a series of movements that meant “what the hell are you on about?”. He first pursed his lips, then squinted his eyes, then frowned his pouty lips, then smiled. Once he was done doing all that, he said “what do you mean?” 

To which I responded “your nose looks like the standard Persian nose job.” 

“The what?” He laughed before pulling my legs closer to his chest.

“Like. Your nose looks like the nose job most Persian people get.” I explained as I leaned in closer to him. 

He released one of my legs to run his hand through his hair and say “well, it's my mom's nose”. 

I thought back to the photo he’d sent me with his mother in it. His was similar to her’s. She is a total diva. I was too distracted by her gorjinka dye job and Valentino Rockstuds to notice anything else when I first looked at the picture. 

“It is like your moms...and I have my dad's” I said before making a crying face. 

“It looks good on you,” he said gently. 

“It's hooked and huge” I rebutted. 

He looked at me and I looked at him. I remembered then that I'd moved closer to him in an effort to work up the courage to kiss him. He was being so sweet to me though and he had one hand around my ankle and the other just above my knee, so I was actually really struggling to focus. 

“Turn to the side,” he said. 

I turned.

“It's not that hooked. It goes down, but I wouldn't call it hooked. And it's not big. I think you just don't know what you look like. You think you look the way you did before you grew into your nose.” He said in a way that made me want to run away. 

The thing is, he said a lot more to me than the words he used. Between the lines of the words he used was “we all had to grow into our features. You aren't the only one, bold-featured brown girl.” Which also kind of said to me “you don't need to constantly try to angle your face in a way that doesn't show your direct profile because I think your ethnic features are normal, bold-featured brown girl.” Which almost gave me the courage to kiss him first. Unfortunately I am a big baby, so I didn't. I instead pressed on the tip of his nose and continued the conversation. 

We talked a lot more , but as we were talking, I processed  why when he said “your lips are the same size as mine” on our first date, it made me happy. I think I liked knowing that he saw familiarity in me that made him comfortable like I do in him.