My Social Commentary

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
I know, I know, I'm probably crazy, but if you don't admit some things to yourself, then the truth will eventually destroy you.

Submitted: July 24, 2008

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Submitted: July 24, 2008

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I don’t know why I let it bother me. I know, deep inside, that I’m smart, beautiful, intelligent, and would be loving and loyal to any man who’s willing to find out. I am definitely a treasure to behold. So what’s the problem?
As it stands, no guy has been willing to see me for my true value. My worst fear is that I am not desirable, that I’m not of any worth, and I am just walking around, invisible and invalid. I guess I use my ability to attract as a measure of myself, and I am the lowest of the low.
I suppose that’s why it gets to me. Because I am so sick and tired of trying to reassure myself that I am beautiful, desirable and valuable. Since no one else seems to think that this is true, it must not be so. My heart continually mangles inside of my chest because I am constantly passed up and pushed off to the side. Every time a man professes his love to a woman, or when a couple share their first kiss, it is another guy who chooses someone else over me. That’s how it feels.
I dream of romance and devotion. My fantasy, which is not something overly complex or kinky, would be for a guy to look at me with overwhelming desire. To love me unconditionally, and only want to be with me. But at the rate life’s going, the only guy I would attract who uncontrollably loved me would be an insane, stalker who preys on emotionally fragile women; because having a sensible, sane guy who wants me and only me is too much to ask for. But other girls seem to get that every day, a person who loves her and treats her as if she were the only girl in the world.
I feel so frustrated because I feel like I will never be happy. I feel so worthless, as if everything is wrong with me, that I’m not pretty, and so what if I’m intellectual who gives a care, no one cares! If someone would just take a chance on me, they would find that I could offer so much: compassion, support, or just good conversation. But I don’t seem to matter because what I can’t offer right now, is my body.
Yes, it’s true. I’m a 16-year-old virgin who plans to “keep her treasure” until marriage. I know, what a joke right? But I’m not crazy, I suppose. I’m just bond, by my religion, my morals, and my belief that sex is supposed to be something more. But what I am, is delusional. Delusional to think that a guy would actually go for that, and delusional to think that I would be able to keep my sacred covenant with God without being alone for the rest of my life. I used to think that I could, and I used to think that I could find love and maintain a relationship without submitting to something as futile as sex, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve lost my faith in the relationship as I am proved daily that it is the physical aspect, or the hint of it, that gets you noticed, and I’m tired of being ignored.
I have had guys laugh in my face when I told them I chose to be abstinent. One would think that garners respect because in this day and age, since people can’t seem to do that anymore (and it must take extreme self-control, right?). But it instead it receives ridicule and complete down cast. It’s like wearing a scarlet “V” that marks you, until you meet someone crazy, or a guy gets tired of fooling around and decides to settle down with the pure virgin that he can, “take home to mamma”. Yeah, that’s what I deserve, to be cast aside until maturity kicks in for the guys, and I’ll watch everyone around me be happy until then.
I want to be loved. I want a guy to look at me and think that I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, because love is sometimes driven by beauty, and vice versa. I would always be in his thoughts and he would actually care for me, instead of trying to gain my trust just so he can just take it. I respect myself, so I deserve more than that. I deserve devotion, love, appreciation, and happiness. I deserve security. Security in myself, security in my relationships, and security in my values. I have been in relationships in which I have has to try so hard and fret because I’ve always had that nagging feeling that they are desiring to be with someone else, and are thinking of some other girl, which has always turned out to be true. Why can’t I be the girl who’s always on a guy’s mind? Why can’t I feel sure that he wants me and only me?
I know romance is dead, I know I can’t have that caring and loving guy in that romance novel because he’s not man enough to exist in this world, so what do I have to settle for? A lying scumbag who’s only in it for the short haul to the bed? A relationship should be more. There should be more sustaining it than the promise of sex some day. Yeah, I’ve never tried it, and I would like to someday, but I can’t fathom how a simple physical act could be worth breaking one’s heart, or how it could be the deal maker/breaker in relationships. How could we be so shallow? How could we treat something that could be so profound with such carelessness?
Making love, is not only a literal connection, but an emotional one. Two become one as they come together, wanting to be close because they know and love each other, not because they’re bored, and figure they must take that next step in order to prove the still love the other. I see it as this. You both are there, he holds you in his arms as if to protect you from the world around you. Security. It is only the two of you in the entire world, he is focused on you, and you are focused on him. Love is enough to sustain the act, as you both have saved yourselves for each other, for that moment. Because you haven’t slept with others, you don’t bring those others, problems, or issues into the relationship that does matter. Sadly, I yearn for that, I dream of that, but I guess I’ll just get married to some guy after I have some sexual experiences with some guys. Yeah, for some reason, guys want that, to sleep with you and every other guy before him.
Well, whatever, I suppose I’ll just stay here, in my pretend world where I am held as the epitome of beauty to some hot guy. Where I am noticed, loved, and appreciated for my virtues. In this world, I find at least one person who agrees with my views, and doesn’t think I’m crazy. I’ll just stay here, and watch all of you around me find your happiness while I force a smile, and foolishly give myself to the first guy who blows on my ear and tells me that I’m beautiful.


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