I don’t care what the mirror says, I’m gorgeous!…

guy says:
אלונה
guy says:
בבקשה תדברי איתי
guy says:
אני אוהב אותך
guy says:
אני הבנתי אתזה
guy says:
היום
guy says:
אוף
Randomique Jester. says:
ח
Randomique Jester. says:
גיא, תפסיק
guy says:
5 בנות מבקשות תמספר שלי ביום אחד, ואני רק חושב לעייך
guy says:
עלייך
guy says:
אוף
Randomique Jester. says:
לי
Randomique Jester. says:
לא
guy says:
אני אוהב אותך

And yet, I feel nothing.
Is it me? I’ve learned to not-feel. I’ve trained myself to ignore what’s going on inside.
Letting it out never seemed to help, only cause greater pain. Not-feeling was the safest resort from pain. Only physical pain can be unloaded by physical ways. Emotional pain shouldn’t be.
But that’s just me, and my little useless theories. Who knows? I might be, yet again, wrong.
‘Till then I have a new crush. An infatuation with my self.
Which is perfect, because it represents everything that real infatuation does.
The illusion- because I see how beautiful I am in pictures, and I wanna cry, I wanna kiss myself, I wanna hold myself and be my best friend. That little sad girl, with the big eyes and the long silky hair. She has that look, meaningful, secretive, complicated. Who knows what things she keeps to herself? I wonder if I could be the one she tells it all to.
But I know me, and I know me without makeup. Without the timid stare, the shy eyes, the sarcasm, the witty jokes, the pompous language- and it ain’t as pretty.
But it still appeals to me, some how.
I know me, and I am my best friend. I know everything about me. I’m my own best friend, enemy… lover. All in one, what else can you ask for?
Nothing.
So why chase something you can never have with anybody else?
Why feel lonely if all your needs are satisfied?
MY answer is as resourceful as always- I don’t know.

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