me and myself—we have a love-hate relationship, that mostly gets in the way of such trivial things as 'feeling beautiful' and 'feeling as if i have worth'. my mind works on a separate wavelength that brings my own personal feelings of value down to 'how much weight have you lost today?' 'what did you eat today?' 'who loves you today?'.
it's a twisted web that i've woven around myself, telling myself that i am worth nothing unless i am both skinny and loved. i am neither, and thus i have no worth. the day he told me he couldn't love me at this point in time, i looked in the mirror, and all i saw was a monster. someone who was not worth being loved, someone who was not worth even a passing glance.
my hair is a hazy cloud around my face, and my eyes stare dully from a face that would be lovely, were it not for a slightly-too-high forehead, and protruding cheeks. my lips are dry and chapped, and i'm still biting them. my chin is a tiny thing that tilts upward in determination. my face tapers down a slightly-too-short, but otherwise slender neck, to the shoulders of a football player, my breasts leap forward, crying out “here i am!”. my waist tapers gently, and my stomach swells forward, an ugly blemish, a tumor behind my creamy pale skin. my hips jut to the sides, too large, too womanly a shape for a girl like me. my thighs touch, and i spend my days grabbing them and wishing they would magically shrink. my feet are wide and i sometimes think of them as hobbit's feet.
there is nothing subtle about my body. there is simply 'too much' and yet nothing outstanding that would make me 'beautiful', whether in a classically beautiful way, or a modernly beautiful way. i am simply the girl that is average beyond average and there is nothing that could capture interest in any way. he made me feel beautiful, for a time, until he decided he could not stay with me, for reasons of his own.
i cried that night. i never cry over breakups. i feel hurt, but i never cry. he is one of two people i have cared for above and beyond anything or anyone before. the first was when i was 15 years old. he and i were magic, and we lasted nearly a whole year, until he went his own direction.
that is the problem with falling in love with your best friends—they hold the power to break you beyond anything you have ever felt in your life. now i have started back down my old paths of self destruction. i started smoking again, because my hands needed something to keep them busy, away from the knife and my wrist—but too late, my left wrist bears new scars, and i can only hope to keep from adding more.
last night i went out with my old best friend—someone i hadn't hung out with in two months, simply because she's a bad influence at times. i'm beyond influence at this point. i do as i please, and what i please is to starve until i can cup my ribcage in my hands and fondle sharp hipbones protruding from my body. what i please is to smoke cigarettes until i wake up coughing so hard i cannot breathe.
what i please is to rekindle my friendship with a boy who broke my heart in january—one of my best friends, who i pushed out of my life after we had an arrangement that led to mutual hurt on both sides. this time, we have grown, and i feel that our friendship could be even more beautiful this time. when he smiles, he sets my heart on fire. i love the sort of friendship we have—so casual, and so easy. when we first met, it was so weird. when i first meet someone, i am shy. i cannot open up until much, much later, and then, only a little at a time. when i first met this boy (we will call him j), i felt so comfortable with him that within five minutes, i was telling him secrets that i had held close to my chest, never telling a soul. except him. we 'get' each other. and our friendship reflects that. we can be talking about something serious, and somehow it flips to us laughing. he makes it easy to talk to him, and our friendship is based upon that. the ease of talking, and just easy, harmless, casual flirting. i know, after what happened in january, that he and i couldn't be in an actual relationship, but somehow, i don't mind. i like us just the way we are.
i've come to the conclusion that i cannot be in a relationship. somehow, everything gets messed up, and everything falls apart. and so i'm on a 'love' hiatus. i will not give my heart away, and i will flirt with whoever i please, but i refuse to fall in love. trouble comes when you give your heart away too quickly, or to the wrong person.
and i will continue to grow thinner and thinner, until the right man cannot help but fall in love with me. until i cannot help but fall in love with him. and then my love story/fairy tale can start.
until then, remember: strength, grace, beauty. stay strong, come through with grace, and people will see your beauty.
<3,
sparrow
Love your blog!
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