Life has always been complicated for me. I've been searching for answers, but I can't seem to find them anywhere except when I can wriggle my body into a pair of skinny jeans. Yeah, that's when life makes sense, right? I guess so. You know... people have always told me that I should be happy with who I am and proud of all that I have accomplished, but they don't know anything. They have no idea what I have been through. They can't see my pain, the bruises, or the restless desire to be perfect. I have always been the fat girl in the group. I was bullied for my size and I guess that makes sense. I can't imagine why anyone would want to have hung around me then. Well, since I wanted to take their advice, I decided I should start perfecting myself. At first it started out small, running a few extra minutes that day, doing a few extra sit-ups or push ups, but then it turned into something entirely different and wonderful: a quest for perfection, a journey to achieve the perfect shape, size, and appearance. Some say that perfection isn't really possible. I'm not sure if I believe them or not, but I know one thing, the skinny girls are always happy. I guess this quest or journey or whatever you want to call it is sorta selfish... Actually, its very selfish. I am not quite sure I like that about myself yet. I've never been selfish before... I usually put everyone else before my own self, but all that got me was good grades in school. But school is important, people say. I like school. I love learning. I wish I could learn forever and never ever have to think about food ever again. I hate food. I hate all of its delicious haunting capacity that ends up just amounting itself on my thighs. 

Sometimes I wonder if I would have turned out this way if my childhood wasn't so messed up. Sometimes I wonder if I am just seeking attention... Sometimes I wonder if I just want to pretend I have a problem. I don't know. I don't know anything. I'm just a stupid girl with stupid dreams that will never come true.