Dear Earth's Population of Real-Life Book Boys,
I know you exist. I see you everywhere, at fairs, at stores, online. Almost always, you have a stereotypical, Instagram-pretty girl on your arm. The both of you are laughing, joking, smiling like you mean the world to each other. I have no doubt that you love each other. 220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLCgwn25MyY
I have one question for you, though.
I know I'm not pretty, or smart, or funny, or anything that those other girls are.
But as I'm sitting here, days away from my 'sweet' sixteen with not even as much as a flirty smile thrown at me in the way of romance, I'm wondering.
Am I really that unlovable?220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6CnaRSB082
Am I too hard to get close to, too hard to form a relationship with? Too unapproachable, too loud, too shy, too mean, too intimidating, too immature, too nagging, too annoying, too ordinary, too weird, too crazy, too overbearing, too pushy, too distant, too bossy, too unhelpful, too too too much.
I know I'd be a hard person to love. I've got a hard outer shell that protects me from the world. But when I'm alone, I melt. I break down.
Everything starts spinning and spinning and spinning, falling apart until all that's left is a shaking, sobbing, trembling girl hiding under her blankets because she can't fall asleep, not with all the voices whispering to her, telling her that she's worthless, that she's not enough, that she just doesn't deserve love.
If you were to ever consider loving me, it would be hard. You'd have to work for it, breaking away my shell until you met the real me. It would become even harder then, because you would be my alone. My mental breakdowns would no longer be hidden from your eyes. You'd start to see the anxiety, the stress, the depression, because I'd no longer be hiding it from you.
You'd have to help me, and I know it wouldn't be easy, but I'd do my best to make it worth it.
I'd love you more than anything, I'd treat you like the sun, the moon, the stars, the light of my life, my anchor.
I'd do my best to protect you from all those who would slander you, or try to make you feel worthless. When life treated you unfairly, I'd hold you, comfort you, let you know that I still loved you.
You would be my everything, and I'd tell you, every moment of every day.
But, if I made you my everything, all I want in return is to just be something. To not be too hard to get close to, too hard to form a relationship with. To not be told I'm too unapproachable, too loud, too shy, too mean, too intimidating, too immature, too nagging, too annoying, too ordinary, too weird, too crazy, too overbearing, too pushy, too distant, too bossy, too unhelpful, or just too too too much.
I'd love you until the world ended, if only you'd treat me, broken, anxious, imperfect me, like you treat the beautiful, funny, perfect girls I always see you with.
With all the love I've never spent,
-M
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