Stop telling me that I'm not fat

I stepped on the scale this morning knowing full well I gained weight

I was not expecting to make it up to 140 though

I was wrong

I thought I could keep off the weight I fought so hard to lose

But no, looks like this is going to be a lifelong struggle for me

I'll always have to think about what I eat

Always

I've gained 8lbs

It doesn't matter what's muscle or how much my ***** weigh

Even if they're legit, I'm going to quit making excuses

I have to starve myself again

I hated that the most

More than going to the gym

More than never eating anything good

The hunger

500 kcal a day, or I was never going to see any results

And it was true

I can't eat 1500 kcal without gaining something

My metabolism is non-existent

Regardless

The thing that has really been killing me is everyone else

That false hope

“You're not fat.”

I don't even know why I ever agreed or let them get to me

Even after losing 20lbs I was still fat at 132, I still had 20 or so lbs to go

But maybe my clothes were too flattering, or they were too nice

I don't care if you are 500lbs

Don't tell me I'm not fat

Don't tell me I'm not allowed to feel fat

I'm not skinny-passing and I never have been

I'm not some skinny girl looking for attention or reassurance

I don't care if that's your honest opinion

I don't care if you'd rather be at my weight or would be happy at my weight

I hate my naked body

I could never pull off a bikini

I'm living in reality

I know what other people would honestly think

Fat is fat

I could weigh so much more, but it doesn't matter

I've already passed the threshold of what is considered fat

From a health standpoint I might be better off

I might not be that hard to look at naked but I'm still fat

Quit telling me I'm not allowed to feel fat because I don't meet your requirements

This is something I struggle with just as much as someone at 200 or 300 or 400

I feel ugly, unwanted, disgusting

I know it has a hand in my love life

I need exercise equipment at home

I'm too self-conscious to go out running or jogging

I don't want anyone to see me

This ends now

I give up

I'm ready to trade it all for a body I love and am proud of

I’m really unhappy once again

I’ve met some guys
In the age range I want
Online, in my area

They ask to meet up

But I can’t, I’m terrified

Not because they are old, I’d be just as afraid to meet up with a guy my age

But because I’m afraid I’ll spoil my fantasy

What I want is carefully outlined in my head
And if I meet a guy
Who isn’t as cute in person
Or doesn’t look like his picture
Or just isn’t what I’ve imagined

I’m afraid the most exciting feeling I have inside of me will die

And I won’t like anyone
And I won’t have anything to look forward to

I don’t feel depressed often
My anxiety is way worse and takes over
But right now the hopelessness is drowning me

My mind switches through different things to hate about myself and what I want

Give up, you’ll never find real love
Give up, you’d still be this unhappy at your healthiest weight
Give up, it will never be a great as it is in your mind

If it’s not him
It won’t be your fantasy
So quit bothering

Just let things be

You, alone
Quit chasing people who would never chase after you
No one will

Not even the man you left for good, who is still in love with you

Is that not proof enough?

My head aches.

My heart aches.

I want one thing.

Just one, and it, of course, has to be laced with stigma.

And I can't find anyone else like you, in a more innocuous place.

No one else that meets my conditions.

Professing for one period

of five months.

Then you won't be my _ _ _ _ _ _ _ anymore.

And yet still, with an easy game of hangman out of the way.

There is still the gap,

16.

I don't care, I couldn't care less.

I just want you, and it is legal now.

And I'm not in it for a grade, and I'm not in it for any benefit other than my heart's.

I don't want it any other way.

At that age, you are unlike you will be or ever have been, at any point in time.

Crisped.

This is why I wish I could have met you under different circumstances.

That will be the first question, the first denial, the first wall.

Unless you are completely insane, no, you've worked too hard to get to where you are.

I don't want to take that from you, but please, hear me out.

Tall, thin, white, handsome…

hairline receding.

Yet still, bright, alive, youthful.

That smile of yours stole my heart, the way you laugh as you do your job.

My face hurts from being so happy.

1 hour and 30 minutes, two days a week is not long enough.

If you'll have me.

If there is no one else.

I want to be in your lap, my lips on yours, my hands soft on your face and in your hair.

I want to show you my raw passion, my age fools you.

My only fantasy, I don't love you, but perhaps I could.

And if you don't want me to, I won't.

But for one night, please.

Rejection is one thing.

But rejection solely because the stigma surrounding your position will leave me looking like an idiot.

You would not have even thought of me, of us.

Fear will grip you before anything else.

And the pain of that is worse than the pain of a thousand rejections.

And so, I wonder whether or not to ever tell you, to ask you.

If I will even be given a fair chance if I wait until the last day?

If not you, I fear I will never have my fantasy with anyone.

And my heart will ache until my time is up.

And I get around your age, my friend.

Stagnant, though I've made all this progress.
Recently thinking makes it hurt more,
but for a moment today
I really put the pieces together.

This painful youth, there was a fire raging inside
and it hurt and it made my heart race.
Today I tried to pick up where I left off

and

and?

and I watched it crumble in my hands?

Confused, I took a hard look, and that fire had gone out.
Disbelief.
His name still rings in my mind infrequently, all on its own.
Those sweet memories still in striking detail, I reach for them.
A moment of reunion, a moment.
And you feel stupid for never realizing you'd miss that time,

that you.

And, you know, I've never been closer to all that I've worked for.
And I couldn't care less, I've never felt more empty.
I'm so alone and it'll be a long long time before I ever feel something like that again. If I ever do.
I didn't need to love him to feel that kind of shame.
Every investment I made in my new freedom this summer made me creep back inside myself, slowly, until drinking and dressing up became a new trauma.

The fire was something to live for,
now I just feel like a rectangle.

I realized recently

That my biggest fear

Is

Living a boring life.

Not necessarily a life full of regret,

But a life in which I never built my own door of opportunity,

Picked the lock

And stepped inside.

A life in which I never took the risks I knew I had to,

If I wanted even the chance

Of becoming a singer,

Actress,

Comedian.

Not that I mind the regular route,

But that one is already barely guaranteed in the first place.

I don’t even know what job I’d enjoy.

How can I continue like this?

Not knowing if I’ll be okay at the job I’m studying for.

Living comfortably is a luxury these days.

What if I’m not cut out for commission work?

I’m terrified.

It could all be a waste.

I just want to coast if I can’t be happy.

But what if coasting isn’t an option?

What if just managing isn’t an option?

What if I can’t do it?

The whole point is to find a better job, one where I rarely cry because I’m trying my best and it just isn’t good enough.

I hate this misconception, that Millennials are lazy.

I’ve worked my *** off, and I will continue to because that is required to survive.

I’ve worked harder at my minimum wage job than many at their 60k a year plus benefits.

I’m just worried that I’m making the wrong choices,

Because there is information I just cannot know as of yet.

And I could have set myself up for the best, right now.

But I don’t know what that is.

All I can do is try!

Efforts paying off is surprising

and I should treasure each one.

Feel its weight in my hands

and off my shoulders.

With each push I'm closer to him

and I can finally start to tell.

How many of us

have asked God,

"How much longer?"

?

Well He answered me:

Three more years of cultivation.

And while that might sound long

the alternative would be much more

unbearable, I'm sure.

We're already good friends

it's only going to get better!

I forget how it felt to hold you.
What it meant to have you.
So foreign, it couldn't have
been me that experienced that.

I've loved since then, but our
touch, that kind of touch.
I haven't had that in years
and I won't ever have it again.

And I've been fine with that.
I left.
But you haunt me sometimes,
not often, but enough to warn me.

How unlikely is it that...
that
was... it?
That you were it?

Because it feels likely.
There was a moment in
time when you meant
everything to me.

Is it so unlikely that
there is a timeline
where it worked out?
I guess it's more that

the touch I get from
just anyone is bland.
And to never get to
form a relationship

again. From where I'm
standing, numb,
memories of
what that

kind of
commitment
feels like,
erased.

Maybe
that's
it
for me.

I haven’t been feeling good lately.

I don’t want to draw, I don’t want to write,

My room is messy.

My feelings for my ex who could so easily be mine again are

Cold.

My feelings for my professor, who I felt so much for, draw

Cold.

I guess I cannot function without love driving me to madness.

Even my old love for fictional characters, just anything to fill that void,

Gone.

I keep telling myself that I have to lose these last 15 lbs

But without love, nothing drives me.

Music too, I don’t want to listen to anything,

I was dancing myself into great moods last week,

In front of the mirror.

Where did that go?

Nothing tastes all that great either.

And maybe, my dreams have pushed their way into the forefront of my mind.

But it is difficult to lay in bed awake, with my eyes shut, fantasizing about starring on SNL.

That would not come as easy as running different scenarios between my professor and I does.

Not to mention my dreams are multifaceted.

I want to be a singer, an actress, a comedian.

So many possibilities.

I can’t focus on one.

I have no one to idolize but myself, yet that is difficult to do when no one likes me.

I knew becoming single wouldn’t change anything.

That I’d still go unnoticed, but one small part of me had rather hoped that I might get some attention from any guy I found relatively attractive.

But no, the answer is always no, and yet I don’t have terrible self-esteem.

I am fully aware that I am quite attractive, especially when I try.

Long, thick, ***** blonde waves surround my face and reach down to my waist.

Cat-like blue eyes with green in their center.

Pronounced cheekbones.

Triple Ds.

I’d say I stand out well among other girls, even though I hate my smile.

Yet I get nothing, and I’m not the type to sit around and wait to get approached.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I was willing to confess to my professor for God’s sake.

And those aren’t just words I assure you.

But in my experience, men don’t like forward women, nor do they like funny women, or confident women.

I can’t win, whether I speak up, or keep it to myself.

I feel like I’ll never have true reign over my own life.

I guess through writing this, I’ve discovered what’s really bothering me.

This is why I’m unhappy right now.

But I’m sure it must be this way for many other people.

Who feel as though no one ever likes them, and they can’t figure out why.

I lost 20 lbs last semester.

I get all As.

I got my license after waiting forever and feeling worthless without it.

I know I have so much to be proud of.

But I don’t care, this life isn’t worth living if I don’t feel fulfilled.

And my heart speaks the loudest.

My heart has the final say.

My heart has treated me to the most powerful happiness I’ve ever felt.

And that came from love.

Something I have no control over.

So, I guess it’s going to be a dry spell for a while.

And that’s the way it works.