Tell me what I'll never be...

Alright. So...I'm back. Hello. I apologize for the lack of entries and yet at the same time, it does my fragile ego good to know people read this!

Anyway, alas, another entry about love, just because it's an inexauhstible (sp? sorry it's late).

So, basically for the most part...here it is as blunt as it will ever be. I love the quirkily beautiful boy. I'm not sure if it's the 'till death do us part' love, but it's love nonetheless. And yet, for some reason, I know I'm going to fuck it up. I've almost resigned myself to it, because I'm not sure what else to do.

I'm starting to scare myself more and more, not because I'm unhappy. For the most part, aside from typical teenage angst, I'm giddy with happiness. I love my friends, my music, I know what I want to do with my life...I'm just content with where I'm going if not excited for the future. Anyway, just to clarify...I'm not sad about anything. But, I'm so insecure about myself that it's begining to annoy even me and I can't help it. I'll look in the mirror some days and not be able to see anything good about myself, look through a closet full ofclothes and feel a deep panic that I have nothing to wear because I'm too big to be seen in public...and I'm convinced that one day Travis will look at me and wonder why he is with someone so ugly. And I know this isn't healthy, and I also know that looks aren't everything and apparently Travis wants me in spite of whatever I see...

And for some reason, I can't stop these thoughts once they start. So I suppose it's just something I'll have to get over. I just sometimes hate going out because I'm so convinced people are looking at me and wondering why he's even with me.

I hate being that girl who's this insecure...because even as I re-read this I just know I'm being ridiculous because love has nothing to do with looks so why do I care?

However, I suppose at least I'm taking chances on life/love? There's this woman who I just saw a documentary on: Jen Davis. A photographer, who is so talented it makes me sick (in my current state...this is a compliment to dear Jen Davis and should not be taken as anything but...).
But her projects also make me really sad. She takes pictures of herself in poses that she wishes were her real life. For instance there's a shot of her in bed with a man's arm around her. But she 'knows' that's not a reality for her because she's overweight. Well, all I have to say is that, fuck her...she feeds my messed up theory because I wonder if she's right...maybe I don't deserve anyone either.

On another note, Mr. Big knows about the quirky boy. There was an amused crack in his voice as though now he can tell her how much he misses her without her reading into it. I do sort of have some satisfaction in telling him that someone cares about me, and how great someone else is. It's hard to explain sometimes, but I guess suffice to say you just...never get over your first love and sometimes, life can just make you into a petty little mess.