Broken Perfection

Fuck. You.

You know what gets me fired up? Like REALLY fucking pissed off? Entitled people. They think they can dance their pretty asses around and get whatever the fuck they want with just a wave of a finger. You are nothing special. You weren’t even CHOSEN. You had to ASK. How fucking stupid do you feel? Knowing that you weren’t wanted? I can’t believe she added you. I would’ve kicked you to the fucking curb. I really don’t know what he sees in you. Really. You are a bland, spineless, person with no personality. You leech off of other people. You’re jealous of everything you don’t have and that’s why you will never be good enough. God I hate you. I hate you so much. I wish I could punch you in the fucking face and beat the shit out of you. Learn some fucking respect. She’s the fucking bride, not you. You weren’t chosen for a reason dumbass. Read the fucking room. No one wants you. But I have to suck it up, be a hypocrite and put up with you. Why? Because if the bride is willing to, I have to. I have no say in this because I KNOW MY PLACE. Stupid bitch.

At this point, my stomach is just a burden to my body.

Ugh!!!!!! I’m so SICK of being SICK!!!! My stomach has GOT to GO!!!!!!

So nervous for this stupid exam. Ugh. I’m in the Doctor’s office and I’m literally up to the roof with my nerves. I took a stomach pill and an anxiety pill. I should be okay in a bit. Just the anticipation is killer.

There are days when I feel that me and my body are getting along...but most days it’s the opposite. Today is one of the days where I absolutely hate the way my body looks. God, it’s just so fucking hard to get along with my body. I know it’s gotten me through some really tough times but it’s just not enough of an excuse anymore. I have so many ailments and illnesses that you’d think I’d look a certain way. But I don’t. It gets to the point where I refuse to look in a mirror. I’m so ugly. When I can’t take at least one good selfie out of hundreds of tries, you know it’s bad. I don’t hate myself. I don’t love myself either. But I hate my body. I wish I could be one of those people that spread body positivity, but I can’t. I envy my cousins. I envy my family. Why did my genes have to be so different? We share the same blood. Why did I come out looking like this? Why couldn’t I look like them? I have the most beautiful mother in the world. People say I look just like her. I WISH I could even have a fraction of her beauty. God gave me the gift of style and makeup skills. If it weren’t for that, I don’t know what I’d do. People would have to see how ugly I really am, I guess. When I put on makeup and fancy clothes, I feel like I’m wearing a costume, complete with the mask. Everyone sees the disguise. No one sees the girl inside. The absolute pain I get when I have to take everything off. The reality I have to face of how I look. It’s just so exhausting.

I am angry. I am hurt. I am sick. I am disgusted. I can’t even describe the feeling that I have. This country deserves to rot in hell. The president deserves to rot in hell. I don’t know what can be done to reverse this. It’s irreversible. This has gone on for too long. Enough is enough. My tears have not dried from grieving. I am mourning the country. Please, stop. You are hurting this country more. Instead of giving us words of wisdom, all you can think about is your greed and destruction. You’re soul is gone. It’s been gone for years. How dare you call yourselves human? How dare you call yourselves people. The world is sick. It’s dying right before our eyes. We try and we try to help it back up but people like you keep tearing us down! What are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to heal from this mess? What have we done to deserve this? All we have given is love. All we have wanted was equality and freedom. All we wanted was peace. What do we get in return? Violence. Guns. The cold hard fist of authority. I am sick and tired of seeing the same thing over and over. You do this to one person, you do this to all of us. Change must happen. We shall overcome. There will be triumphant protests. Things will get better. They have to.

I am entranced. I am under a spell. I don’t know how I fell so easily. My heart doesn’t cave in at first glance. I learned to keep my heart locked up the hard way. I’ve always liked to think people aren’t the cruel monsters that I’ve known them to be. It’s hard to gain my trust. But I fell. This time, I fell hard and unexpectedly. It was suicide. I jumped. He caught me. I wasn’t even expecting him. How could I? I didn’t even know he existed about an hour ago. But, as soon as I laid eyes on him, my heart knew. It just knew what kind of man he was. Before even I could find out. I spent hours on end learning about him. Researching him, finding what makes him tick. Why did my heart choose him? There has to be a reason. I looked at him from an outsider’s perspective, and I see a man, skinny, pale, nerdy, ordinary. I don’t see anything special about him, apart from the fact that he’s British. But then I looked at him through my heart’s perspective, and he’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He makes me feel safe and secure. He just gives off an aura of certainty and comfort. He’s a beautiful, pure soul. I’ve never encountered anyone or anything like that in my life. I completely fell in love with him from the moment I saw him. It was overwhelming. It took over me like a plague. I couldn’t escape it. There was nowhere to run but to him. I’ve never fallen so hard so fast. I could’ve sworn my heart stopped beating for a millisecond. I’m done for. I’m a victim of love. I’ve finally found you. My perfect soulmate.