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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world
It All Works Out
Today I confronted the guy. I stopped him and asked, straight up, if he thought I was attractive. He gave me this half a** answer of kinda so then I asked, yes or no. He said yes but then I asked if he had a girlfriend. He answered sorta and explained he was kinda pursuing someone else. When he asked why, I told him I wouldn't do what I was thinking about then. End of story. I was already losing interest and to be honest, even though it was a little sad not to kiss the guy, I'm glad it didn't work out. It would have been something I would have regretted, possibly. Besides, I wasn't as attracted to him anymore so I don't think the kiss would have been very good XDDD

Because I've been talking to my online friends and they ask when I ate or what I ate, I've taken more notice of how little I've been eating. This gets me focusing on it and now, I'm eating. I'm eating well. I don't like worrying my friends but I hate even more the thought they may be thinking something is really wrong with me. I do worry about what people think of me and I don't like the thought that I may be misunderstood. That deeply troubles me. I want my friends to understand. I want to let them in. I just don't trust so easily.... as I want to.

I have this perception of myself, the self I want to be. She's flirtatious and wild. She is such a punk that she's free to say whatever she wants. She gets into fights and enjoys that. Her scars are not just tragic little marks that barely touched the skin, they are powerful and strong. She has tattoo's and her style is breathtaking. She finds all kinds of things at second-hand stores, without being afraid of people there. She doesn't care that her friends are uncomfortable with her talking to people on the streets cause no one really gives her s**t. This girl... I cannot be. I want to be her but I can't. People will continue to harass me on the streets cause I waved or danced passed them. They will continue to follow me around and hit on me. My marks will not change into some deep and beautiful scars. My parents would be way too protective to let me get a tattoo and I care about them too much to go behind their backs. I don't support myself and I'm terrified of getting a job or going into second-hand stores because I'm always alone. I won't be that girl. She's too self-centered and doesn't care about the hearts of others like I do. She gives everything away and cries herself to sleep. I refuse to go back to that. I REFUSE. So no, I won't be that girl. I can't be that girl in my head. And perhaps I'm all the better for it.





 
 
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