People say I’m sad, others say am weird, some say both, the rest think the worst. Do not be deceived, I’m a huge believer in love. I want fireworks, I want the holding of hands and the locking of lips. I just get revolted when boys tell me I’m pretty. I find to believe I am anything close to pretty. The girl I always see in the mirror staring back at me looks plain, almost too plain. I'm all kind of awkward and I have almost lost hope waiting for my prince that’s if I’ve got one since I'm no Disney princess. I like to daydream, to make up stories on what’s delaying him and how magical its going to be when he finder me. I am the most virgin girl in this world. I haven’t even held hands with a boy before. But then my prince is going to change all that when he comes. He is going fulfill all my sexual fantasies and even more. Some people think waiting is stupid but I believe in fairytales and happy endings. I want perfect so I'm going to wait. It may take forever and a day but when he comes, he’ll be my eternity.
Days have gone by most quickly. Some of them I didn’t even notice. Its been a while since I’ve written here. Well there has been nothing to write about till now. I think I like someone. He’s new in my History class. He came in yesterday and all of a sudden I have found purpose, a purpose, a purpose to write. Sometimes I feel him staring at me. Maybe its in my head, I do not know. I like when he smiles. I do not understand why I look at him so much. When his eyes catch mine, I get lost in his dark eyes. I feel myself melt inside. I felt something yesterday. Something I do not understand. Something I cannot explain. I was up all night thinking about him. This is the first time I have felt something for someone this way. I thought of things I cannot say, fantasies that left inordinate cravings. I never thought I had the ability to feel like this. The throbbing inside. The need. I want him to be my prince. To hold my hand. To tell me he loves me. I want him to think me to be sexy. To want me enough to want to do bad things to me. I cannot stop staring at him though. I love to study his face, his eyes, the strong clench of his jaw, his hands, his big arms. I even try to imagine him without clothes. How it’d feel if I run my fingers around his middle. But for now I'm stuck here. With just fantasies and dreams. Even now I'm trying to look good to be considered to be pretty. So I'm presently in a pile of my clothes, frustrated, looking for the outfit that would do the trick.
Now I'm writing these notes to you in my diary. Things I cannot say. Things I feel. I want the words to leave my mouth but my pen is putting them in here. I'm to anxious to sleep. Yesterday I was in my personal paradise. The one I created for myself in you. Yesterday I wasn’t dreaming, I dint just fantasize. I really did hear your voice. I did actually hear you say my name. so I guess my outfit won more than I thought it would. Now all of a sudden I feel I have everything. You are my everything. I keep replaying it in my head. Yes it cant stop. You walking into me. I still feel the tingle even now. Like all the clothes disappeared and I could feel your hard chest on my soft breasts. I did feel naked, pink and embarrassed and couldn’t look into the brownness of your eyes for fear of being lost in them. Then my name left your lips and all of a sudden only that mattered. Now I live each day, just because you know my name. you took my hand and led me to class. Yes, I would let you take me anywhere. Through the green grass and the fires of hell. As long as the fingers holding mine with promise are yours. I want to be your everything just as you’re my everything. I'm waiting now for tomorrow. I would wait each day for you now that I have got hope to hold on to. Tomorrow’s going to be special. You told me you want me to yourself. I am ready to give you more. This silly flirting would get me nowhere I know. This is the bitter truth. You would never be mine. You’re someone else’s. She’s perfect. I'm not. But then you want me and that is enough. You think I'm that good it makes me so happy I can pass for crazy. Even if its only now, I feel so wonderful to have this moment.
I still have your shirt. It smells like you. I'm hugging it right now. I'm always wearing it to sleep. It helps me remember. So this is it. It was beautiful. Every moment. Not always do I remember it with smiles. My body still tingles when I remember. I still feel the heat in every place like you are still here with me right now. I miss you so, it breaks me inside. I remember how you pulled off my clothes in the most erotic way, trailing kisses as you did. I remember moaning out loud when you suckled my breasts. I remember the tug of pleasure I felt in my most feminine parts. I remember how you opened me up to new possibilities, to a new knowledge, to a part of me I never knew existed. I know how scared I was, ignorant and almost embarrassed. I remember the pain, the splitting pain. It didn’t get better. It got worse. I still feel sore in those places but then it’s the type of sore that makes my heart smile. And then the sore becomes warm and moist. I remember how I felt you occupy all of me. Your hardness in my female tightness. I remember the pleasurable pain you exposed me to. The heights of pleasure that enveloped me- it is called an “orgasm” I believe. It was the most memorable thing. I felt loved, attractive, womanly, wanted..all of that but I also felt used, dirty and violated. I am happy but mostly, I am disgusted with myself.
I wouldn’t call myself depressed but I'm almost there. He hasn’t spoken to me since that day. Most times he acts like he doesn’t know me, and sometimes he just nods his head at me. I see him with her. They are as happy as ever. I see the way he plays with her hair, they way he looks at her, the way his eyes twinkle when she smiles. I want to disappear. It was not just that one time. There were five times after the first the first one. It just didn’t feel as special. We never went to his house, just in corners around. I feel like nothing now. Each time I want to say No, there is always this weakness. I'm always thinking now. I'm always sad and I always cry. I like to believe that he would like me one day, that maybe because he wants me, he would learn to love me. Deep down I know it’s a lie, I just want to cherish each time, our lips lock and our tongues intertwine, our joint bodies and the heat of your breath on my skin. But I am lonely. Very lonely. There’s no love. Nothing. Now I get looks. I hear whispers. Maybe people know. Maybe they don’t. Maybe he told someone. Maybe I’m paranoid. All I know is that I hurt inside inside.