..with my mind.
i am not beautiful. i know this. i’ve known it for a long time. i think i’m about 65% ok with it, on any given day. i have my good days and my bad days. some days i am ninja so deluxe that nothing can touch me; not you, not me, nobody. and some days everything makes me want to curl up into a little ball of invisible and just…hide.
because i am not beautiful.
there was one person who told me i was beautiful, once. and by one person i mean someone not related, not friends with me, not drunk or out to get something from me. family will tell you you’re beautiful whether you really are or not…because they love you the way that makes you preciously beautiful no matter what. because friends will tell you you’re beautiful for any given reason, and you can be at the drop of a hat, to a friend. all my friends are beautiful in one way or another. and it’s real, it’s true…f’sho. and well, “you’re pretty when i’m drunk”, or “i need something from you and if you provide it to me it will make you *so* beautiful” don’t warm the other side of the bed on a lonely night. and none of those make you feel…
feel…
feel…
beautiful…b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l…beautiful…beautiful…
that word is so hollow. say it enough times, look at it enough ways and it loses all meaning whatsoever. i might believe a friend when she tells me i’m beautiful (and it’s always the girls that say it, because girls are like that…), or maybe even a relative…(never the drunk dude in a bar who just wants to holla…never). but that doesn’t stop the lonely.
i want to be the kind of girl that matters to somebody. i want to matter.
not fame or fortune or any of that f-word crap that means nothing at the end of the day. i just don’t want to be alone. i want to matter to somebody. i want somebody that i need to have in my life that needs me in their life just the same. not more, not less…the same. i want to feel whole. i want to be the kind of girl that somebody really loves…loves loves loves for real, true blue to the end of the day and all the way into the wee hours of the morning and back again. none of this means anything at all. this could all sound very self-centered and arrogant and vain. and catch me in the right frame of mind and that’s exactly what it is, partner. *exactly* “i want to be pretty” or “i want to be love” or “i want to matter”…blah blah blah. say it enough times and it loses meaning.
loses…
losing…
lost…
whateverso anyway…one person told me i was beautiful. and for a moment i actually believed it…almost…sometimes…*maybe*…catch me unawares and walk up to me and say ‘i think you’re beautiful’…and just look at me in a way that says unequivocally “you are beautiful to me.” without a doubt and my breath will catch…and i’ll believe you. by god i’ll believe you, and i’ll melt. he told me i was beautiful and i believed him. he wasn’t family, and we were friends…but not the kind of friends that would say ‘you’re beautiful.’ and i loved him. oh i loved him. loved loved loved him so. i was stupid and when he told me he thought i was beautiful, he meant i was beautiful to him, in his eyes. and me, with my stupid heart and even stupider head (stoopid with two O’s) believed him.
…for a while, anyway.
and now, i wonder if it was ever really true. or if he was just blinded by what we were both foolish enough to think of as love? i *almost* almost believed him for real. but i know it’s not true.
i stopped being beautiful to him, and that is the truth.
i’ve never really felt beautiful, and that is the truth.
i think that the whole concept of beauty is bullshit, but i also think that’s mainly because 9 times out of 10 i feel downright ugly…and that, dear hearts, is the truth.
i think i have a better chance of being ok with not ever being beautiful than ever really feeling i am, or actually being it, and that is the truth.
b-e-a-u-t-y
b-u-l-l-s-h-i-t
same motherfuckin’ difference, yo.
this is self-indulgent crap
