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03-16-08|
5:04 pm
one time I wrote this and don't think I posted it: Less of me now than ever before. Literally. The girl who was never terrible unhappy with herself to begin with, there is less of her. Something like 23%. What else is there. Two times I thought I had figured it out and yet here we are. There is no satisfaction. Smarter, thinner, richer, how shallow of me and yet. What is it I am looking for exactly? I read a book and I ached so badly that I put it down twice, maybe three times. Unrequited love. I want to be with you. I want to be with you. You think about me. How it is almost enough, but the problem is girls like this, like me, we probably don't ever consider that we are enough, more than enough, deserving of more. So I wrote that, not sure when, and now I will write this: I cut off my hair. It doesn't matter because it's been 2 years since I recognized myself in the mirror. And by the way, I am half in love with a man. |