I have a box of "stuff" in my closet. It is full of concert tickets, pom-poms from my first football game, pictures, that paper crown from Chicago, my tri-fold senior pictures album thingy, that pink notebook you got me for my birthday last year, Pier-the potato, and other such memorabilia. I am not sure what to do with it all. I just thought I would tell you about it because I was just thinking about it.
I was talking with my mom tonight, and it was nice. I told her that I can see what my friends are, what they want to be, and what they probably will be, but, I cannot see myself. I do not know what kind of person I am. I don't know how others perceive me. I do not know all of my flaws, but I do know a lot that you don't know. I don't think I can love me because I am so busy hating me so much. I love other people because I love their good points and their flaws. But, I cannot get past my own. I am forever dwelling in my own inadequacies. And I always think that I am not good enough for you. I am not good enough for you. I am not good enough for you.
That screams through my head over and over. All day. All the time. Maybe I will never be good enough for anyone. Maybe the people who would live up to my own standards are not interested in the likes of me. I feel so. . . Inadequate.
I look at the relationships of the people I love the most. I do not have on good example of a healthy male/female relationship. It seems that I am doomed to repeat one of the examples I see before me. And it makes me sad. And it makes me lose hope. And it makes me feel lonely. Irrevocably lonely.