one night in new york, it was early december. i went out with my half sister and her friends. she asked me upon arrival why johnny was not with me. i told her he was having dinner with his ex girlfriend. it was her birthday party. later on in the night her friend said to me ‘youre way too hot to deal with that bullshit. if that happens to you and youre so beautiful, what hope is there for the rest of us?’ 

In his own words, ‘it goes to show what hope is really worth.’

I cant help but think of this over and over again. As if being beautiful according to you should make my life a fucking cake walk? You may look at me and think im beautiful, i look at me and see only my flaws. I was endlessly teased, called ugly and this and that. I internalized it and now i cant look in the mirror without thinking my face is too wide. or my nose is too big. or my ribcage is too wide set. or my back is too fat, or my tailbone sticks out funny… i pick myself apart until there is nothing left. 

all my makeup, all the clothes, the waxing, starving myself, painting my face, whitening my teeth, changing the texture of my hair entirely. more highlights, more blonde, i need to be skinnier, my tits need to be bigger, my stomach isnt flat enough, my cheeks are too big, my hair is not long enough. am i perfect yet?

so because im beautiful he should love me? my life should be easy? my wish is your command? how dare you. i have worked twice as hard to get half as far.

trust me when i say, the grass is greener. im an object, not a person. because of the way i look my mind, my soul, thoughts and feelings… all of that shit is overlooked because i have full lips and pretty hair. all i want in the world is for someone who of course appreciates my looks but sees through it. sees my soul through it. i think i found him. 

I think I’m in love.

after all this time. after all these feelings.

I never though i could feel this way about anyone after him. All I can think about is you. And I’m scared that it’s not mutual. Oh, I hope it is. I love you so. The way you look at me. I need that look. Please, Look at me like that again. It makes me feel like I’m flying. Let us fly. I want to soon. This feeling, it’s been so long. Please let this be real.

I hope I dream of you when i sleep. Please ask me to sleep over soon. I need to be close to you. Do you see me getting attached? I hope you get attached too. Let’s share our feelings. I want to get lost in you. get lost in your soul. take me. let us go. far far away from here. let us go, just you and i. Where our souls can be one and our minds at ease. These moments are fleeting, I want to share them with you. I love you. I choose you.

You win some, you lose some. And while winning is always victorious, sometimes losing really sucks.

Don’t you see how hard I try?

Don’t you see how good I am?

Why don’t you Love me?

Why don’t you fucking Love me?

Please daddy, Please Love me. I can’t take this disappearing act. This roller coaster ride. Why can’t you be consistent?

I’m not a failure.

It’s up one moment. Down the next.

You shame me one moment. Love me the next.

But maybe this is my fault too. Because sometimes when he have good moments, I will sit there and think ‘You didn’t even want me.’

I want that life. I want to do what I love, go home to my little G, make dinner for my loving husband. I want to be the mother I never had. With the husband I have never known. And give my kids the chance at greatness that I deserved.

Kambiz told me I am at my best when I am the center of someones universe. At first I didn’t really give it much credit, but after thinking about it… The more I think about it, the more i discover he is right.

I feel like accepting things from my dad is like bargaining with the devil. As much as I want him to love me, I wont sell my soul to him. I feel like my sister is rooting against me. She thrives off of the fighting between my dad and I. It’s her chance. She gets to be the favorite temporarily. But lets be honest, everyone likes to root for the underdog.

I get on my knees, close my eyes and position my hands on your stomach as if its a keyboard. I begin to type my feelings. Why cant i just say it to you. You make me feel so vulnerable, and so emotionally fearless like a child.

I remember being very young. I walked into my dads office. He was sitting behind a table with stacks of money infront of him. They were organized by bill. He told me I can have whichever one I wanted. I told him no. I refused because I never wanted his money. I only wanted his love.