Too Much; Never Enough.

It’s crazy that a day without her feels like more time than weeks next to her. She surrounds me with complete bliss and not being with her feels like torture. I’m going crazy. Only because I’m crazy in lo.. Awe.

Confidence is sexy. That’s a well known fact. It’s also a well known fact that self-pity is, for the most part, horrendously unappealing. This is why I am confident- or I at least appear to be.

I know that I am not unattractive. That is well known through out my school. I am either a sexy beast or an egotistical ass- you decide. To be completely honest, confidence is easy to feign. Stick your chest out, keep your chin up, have good posture, make eye contact, smile, act charming, tell yourself “I’m sexy”. You’ll end up believing it sooner or later.

Truth be told, I haven’t always been the charismatic knight people think they see. Quite honestly, I hate myself. Unappealing, yes? This is why I never say that. Believe it or not, it’s easy to change an inferiority complex into a pseudo-superiority complex. The problem with this is, although you may seem more appealing to others, you will become less appealing to yourself.

Who could honestly be so weak and pathetic to hide all of their emotions and say “I’m fine” every time someone asks, and persist on being fine even when they’re obviously breaking down and the people who are asking obviously care about them? Oh, that’s right.

Me.

I had no clue that the mixture of my new “confidence” and transition could be so painful. Dysphoria and self-hatred is at the forefront of my emotions but because of the person I’ve made myself into, I can’t even hint at weakness.

I don’t cry.

Crying is not only feminine but it is weak and unattractive. Though I know this is untrue, I still believe it. I tell everyone else “Crying is healthy. It makes you strong. Everyone has emotions and the fact that you can show it makes you stronger than most” but for some reason, I shout at myself the exact opposite.

Another weakness: I hate controversy, of any sort. I don’t correct people when they use the wrong pronouns even though it gets under my skin like no other. If someone insults me, I avoid eye contact and try to avoid them. Most likely, if someone were to start a fight with me, I would run away and not tell any sort of authority. I do this because I believe I am in the wrong, always. I don’t want to make anyone else feel uncomfortable, ever, so my comfort, and for that matter, my whole self value is sacrificed.

Honestly, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. I let people walk all over me because their lives are more important than my own and an easy way to get out of someones way is to lie down.

I hate it when people worry about me. I’m not worth anybody’s concern. I hate when people make a big deal out of what I’m feeling because people honestly shouldn’t waste their time on something so minute. I also detest receiving gifts. I often feel as if someone could have spent their effort and money on something far more deserving.

What’s funny is that even though I hate standing up for myself, I will always stand up for the people I care about. If you earn my trust, I can guarantee you that you’ve also earned someone who will fight for you, take care of you when you are in a time of need, do nearly anything for you, and sacrifice anything for you. I would easily take a bullet for someone I care about. This is probably because I believe that my life is of little value compared to nearly anyone else’s.

“Why do you smoke?”

Because I want to die sooner. I take part in many high risk activities simply because of this reason. My existence is a hinderance. If I ceased to exist, it would allow many others to excel. I used to tell myself that nearly every day. Somehow, I’ve managed to block it from my thoughts recently. I indirectly kill myself perhaps because I do not want to admit I am suicidal. Suicide is weak. Perhaps also because many people have become dependent on me. Their happiness and their health is dependent on my life. I wouldn’t ever want to hurt the people I care about and because of this, I refuse to attempt suicide.

Nobody knows these things about me. This is again because I am “confident”. Emotions are weak. I know if anyone found these things out about me, their perception of me would change and they would be less drawn to me. The only way I allow myself to show my emotions is through my writing and YouTube. It is easier to feel when nobody is around to judge. My emotions are better left unpersonalized.

Only the people who are the absolute closest to me know a fraction of these emotions. This is because people abandon others easily. If something is too much weight, it is dropped and it is forgotten about. People are attracted to who they think I am, not the pathetic mess that I actually am.

To feel is to sacrifice my reputation. To emote is to be unappealing. Even though I need someone to hold me, I won’t let them because they’re clean and I’m filthy.

Only one person has cared about me enough to not use me. To help me off of the ground when I offer to be her stepping stool, hold me and call me silly. I don’t ever want to lose her, but I only want her to be happy. I almost feel the need to push her away because she deserves someone so much more amazing than I.

Tell me, now that you see my insides, do you still care about me? I wouldn’t blame you if the answer is no. After all, I can see my insides which is why I am filled with disgust at the thought of myself.

So, which came first, the confidence or the attractiveness?

For me, it is the illusion.

“Will you be the jelly to my peanut butter?”
“Only if you’re the macaroni to my cheese.”
:)

“It’s not about finding the perfect person; that’s impossible. It’s about finding the perfect fit”
The person who fits you perfectly. The one who completes you. It seems like everything that’s going wrong doesn’t exist because you’re with them. You’re motivated to do good in your life simply because they’re in it.
Now I understand.

There are so many things I want to say but I just can’t find the words. Or, perhaps, I can find the words; I’m just too scared to use them. Truth be told, I am consumed by a feeling when I am around Melissa. It feels foreign to me. She makes me happy beyond belief. She makes my heart so warm. She makes me feel like I’m floating.

I don’t know whether I should admit any of this, but it scares me. She gives me these huge butterflies that I haven’t felt in near forever.

So far, for me, butterflies have been nothing more than an early sign of a death sentence. Because of this, I’ve become accustomed to running at the mere sound of a wing fluttering. This explains part of the reason I didn’t flee from my previous hell hole of a relationship. Perhaps I’ll make an entry about that later.

I feel ashamed because I am in bliss. I feel as if I don’t deserve this. I met someone so sweet, so amazing, so perfect. I keep asking myself, “why?”. I don’t deserve someone so wonderful. Each kiss is laced with bliss and I don’t deserve this. I know this sounds stupid and self pitying but this is how I feel.

I’ve indirectly told her, or at least tried, that she deserves someone better than me.

I’m scared that I’m going to end up hurting her. I would do anything for her. I would give her nearly anything that she asks for. I don’t ever want to hurt her which is one of the reasons I am so scared. I don’t try to hurt people but sometimes, it just happens. Sometimes when I try to massage someone, my hands turn to acid. I don’t want that to happen.

I care about her so much. I love being with her and holding her. I love staring into her beautiful eyes and kissing her soft, sexy lips. I love being able to see her gorgeous smile. I’m not used to caring this much about people. I’m not used to the warm fuzzy feeling.

I try my hardest to not get attached to people, romantically. I always try to tell myself that love doesn’t exist.

It’s hard to deny something when you’re experiencing it with all of your senses at once.