Saturday, November 19, 2011
As always, thank you to Fat Piggy and Miss Burton for your lovely comments. Yay for running! And yay for thinspo!
It's rare for me to meet someone who is everything I want to be and leave the encounter/encounters not hating them. This is why I feel I should blog about Alex. I'm hoping this post will also be a bit therapeutic for me because I've been unable to deal with her existence for a long time.
Alex is a walking talking embodiment of everything that I wish to be and so much more. She is so perfect that she far exceeds anything I had previously thought of as perfect. Perfect in ways and areas that I had never thought of before. This is why I want to hate her. She's like an angel walking among us. No. She is an angel walking among us.
I find it hard to describe Alex. I don't know where to start. She's just a little taller than me, but model thin. Naturally. She's half Asian, and so she has that look about her that only half Asians seem to have. That exotic, yet familiar, the ethereal, the strange quality that you can't put your finger on but you know damn sure is there. There is something magical about her Asian shaped eyes with the subtle double lids and the strange shade of green that shines out. Or is it yellow. Or is it blue. Or is it brown. I swear it changes all the time.
Alex has a beauty that is striking to say the least. But striking because it is so odd. There isn't another person in this world who comes close to her look. She is the sweetest person anyone will ever meet. I don't think she is capable of thinking bad thoughts. I don't think she knows what it means to find fault in someone. Somehow she has achieved what I thought was impossible; she is aware of all the dark sides of life yet is sheltered from it at the same time and can see through it all to the good in someone's soul. The state in which she exists must be enlightenment.
This must all sound like I'm madly in love with her. I'm not. Like I said, I would dearly love to hate her. She makes my life a misery by being so perfect. I look at her and see no hope for myself.
Alex is the professor's masters student. That is how I came to meet her. Clearly, he adores her, but then so does everyone else. Hell, even I adore her. I can't help it. I don't think any of us can. She seems so pure and untainted and eager to help and compassionate and all those adjectives that we apply to people we like. Alex is all of them. You know when she's in the room. With her quiet charm, she oozes goodness from every pore, so much goodness that it seems to coat everything in the room. She can do no wrong.
But I can. And therein lies the problem. Normally, I would deal with this by nitpicking and then finding something I don't like about her and cutting Alex the tall poppy down. But I can't do it, because there is nothing I dislike about her. When faced with perfection, all I can see is how far I am from it.
I can't even begin to think about how superior she is in terms of intelligence and personality and charm and wit and all those things. Just on a physical level, she is so much better than me. She's beautiful, she's super thin, she's got a wardrobe I would murder for. As long as Alex exists in this world, I will never understand why anybody would ever bother with me. Especially the professor.
This is how I talk myself out of every single instance when I think he might like me. As long as Alex exists, he'd be a fool to bother with me. I'm not beautiful or thin. I'm not even pretty or cute. I might be presentable at times, but that's because I work very hard to be. I'm not clever or witty or funny. Come to think of it, I don't really know what I am. But looking at Alex, I know everything that I'm not.
Reading what I've written, I'm understanding why the cutting is getting worse. This is the worst it's ever been. I started cutting at 15 and I think at 18 I had a very long hiatus away from it. I really only started it again a few months ago at 21 years old. And very quickly it became a necessity. I've learned not to do my arms, although I want to, for decorative purposes. My abdomen and thighs have become the areas of choice. Right now I have 50 scalpel blades stashed away, including 2 scalpel handles and 2 15degrees, which are super fine ophthalmic operating blades, great for that intricate design.
And at the next possible chance, I will get more blades. Oh Alex, it has been an absolute privilege and honour to be able to cross you in my life. You make me more insecure than you'll ever know. By your very existence you make me too afraid to enter the professor's office or even speak in front of him. You make me feel utterly unworthy of ophthalmology and medicine. You make me feel utterly unworthy of existence.
I will think you in the moment before my death, Alex, and then you will be a comfort to me. At long last I will get what I've wanted my whole life; confirmation that what I am doing is right.