My Heroine.

The date was August 2nd, 2008. This was just before grade 11 started.
I wrote this.

"
It feels that now-a-days you need to be the perfect size for any guy to find you worthy. Pretty much a size zero is acceptable. Unfortunately for me, I'm a size 9, and that's wayyy to big for the boys standard. Because of that it seems that I've been deemed, "Undateable." and this is all because my fucking father had to give me his shitty fat ass diabetic gene. This might be one large portion contributing to the fact that I really don't like my father.

" no one realizes that in all actuality I'm so quiet, and depressed and i truly hate the way i am inside, but i so desperately want to set a good example for others, to show them that their is no need to hate themselves because all girls and boys are beautiful, they just need to believe it. but i cant practise what i preach. I'm just a big hypocrite " - Me

My barrier is slowly just, dying. I don't have my confidence anymore. It's sad that lack of social being has done this to me, but it has. I feel pathetic when I feel this way. I feel that anyone could just stomp all over me 'till I die, and I won't care. I really wouldn't, to be completely honest.

It pisses me off when girls that are thinner then me complain about their weight as well. Like my friend Ella. She's like, the PERFECT size and apparently she's fat. She's nothing close to my weight, in fact, I'd trade weight with her ANY day. It ridiculous because I'd LOVE to look like them, but they for some fucked reason think they're ugly and I don't GET it. It also seems like they just do it for attention. I just feel like strangling them! I don't get it. I really don't.

Like, I've told everyone that if I ever hit 200 pounds I WOULD go anorexic. I will say that because I would. It's just not healthy, nor attractive. Oh, and I will NEVER let myself come CLOSE to being like my overweight family, because dying of diabetes and obesity doesn't sound very nice. Kidney failure caused by diabetes killed my grandmother, and she would have been here with me today if she didn't have that gene. I would have had her here with me, but because she was cursed with the fat gene she DIED. She would have been like, 79. I could actually have memories of her. But no, she died when I was 3 and she's NEVER coming back.

This is only a small portion of how fucked up I am.

Now for the boys issue.

Not to mention all the boys in the world seem to think size 9 is way to big... I have major nervous issues. I think that I'm never good enough for the type of boy I'm attracted too, and that all I'll ever date (if I EVER date) will be something that I won't be satisfied with. The guys I'm attracted to won't want a girl with all my flaws. I mean I'm over weight, I have cysts in weird places (which is why you'll see purple marks around my underarm and thighs). I use to cut, so I have white scars over my body. My thighs brush together when I walk, which I find disgusting.

About my nervous issue. When I find a guy attractive, I'll probably never get close to him because I'll be too nervous of how they feel, or what they think of me. I won't go up and get the courage to talk to them because of the fact that I AM a nervous wreck. I never WANT to have the courage either, because maybe if guys come up to me first, then I'm beautiful enough. Maybe then I'll be good enough to date. So I best drop that feeling. Even if I do get to a weight I love, it'll be perfect when I'm twenty, and then 10 years later I'll start to wrinkle, and since I'll hate my body again, I'll push away my bf or whatever, because my flaws make me feel unworthy.

I've said that a lot in this.

And finally. My friends.

I hate being alone. I always have and always will. I don't have confidence, I really don't. So when my friends go and have fun with their other friends, I feel rejected. Like, I know they have more then me, but I feel like I'm not number one to anyone anymore. Like, it even feels sometimes that (insert name here) would choose (insert name here) over me any day.

I feel so alone, in this stupid home. Moving here was a mistake, because I never can just go walk over to a friends. I'm always in this fucking house and I hate it, because everyone's so far away. I can't go see them if I want because I need a ride. Besides, everyone is always busy. Why should I take away their friends because they have lives? That would make me selfish.

This is long, and pathetic. And for some reason not matter how much I tried, I feel like this isn't all of how I feel. But I can't express it anymore, I can't think up any more words.

I'm just sick of how I feel, because I hate feeling like this, but it's like, with my whole loneliness issues, its like there is nothing I can do to change it. "

Some of my views have changed. Not all that much though. And I still don't understand why I'm giving everyone this much access into my life. Then again, it's not like I'm important enough for any stranger to want to read about my life.

If you'd like to get straight past my rambling bullshit, I'll skip a to another flaw of Franks.

Frank had always been able to get under my skin, whether it was with his attempts at making me unbearably jealous, or acting like a stupid idiot. He always managed to piss me off almost everyday. Whether anything he did was intentional or not, it still bugged me. I thank the heavens sometimes that I didn't have to date him and deal with that bullshit as well. His anger issues are enough to drive me nuts.

Once Lauren and I had finished at the tracks, I slipped my red lighter in my bag, asking Zoey for help in standing on the black rocks that surrounded the train tracks. She helped me and began to lead the incapable ones towards the road that would bring us back to our school. Over time, I'd gotten more and more paranoid with sitting on the tracks. One of my greatest(and most pathetic) fears in the world is trains. Every time I felt as a train were coming, my eyes would dart from side to side, prepared to run away from the tracks as quickly as my legs would take me.

We stumbled on to the road, and began our short trek to the school.

"How do you feel Amy? Better?" Lauren spoke, peeking out from the top of her aviators. Her eyes were already red and squinted. Her walk was normal enough, except for whenever her heel would catch a rock and she'd go flying forwards. I could only imagine if I myself were not high, like Zoey, I would probably grow very annoyed with her antics. But instead I found everything highly amusing. The colors of the grass was enough to get me going.

Instead of going inside the school, we jumped on school property, just to get off of it. We stood in the "Pit"(where the smokers have to go because it's not considered school property, therefore it's legal to smoke there). Lauren pulled out a smoke for each of us. Frank had already been there, and I had no doubt in his mind that he was running behind me, acting like a fool. I ignored him, talking to Lauren and Zoey while enjoying my nicotine fix.

My body felt relaxed, my mind as well.

"You're so pretty."

I turned to see Frank talking to a petite grade 10. She was pretty Italian girl who I didn't dislike. She'd never been rude to me, always nice. He had his hand on her arm, and he was flashing one of his flirtatious smiles. He was trying his I'm-going-to-make-Amy-jealous-so-I-can-bring-my-ego-up shit. I took a large drag as I witnessed him pick her up and spin her around, hugging her tightly to himself. She giggled, but looked a little uninterested.

She was a smart girl, knowing what trouble that boy would bring her. Only I had been that smart.

I took another drag, becoming irritated with him already. I was sick of his bullshit. I knew it was a confidence boost to see me becoming extremely jealous. As much as I didn't want to give him that pride, I could help myself. I had a very jealous personality. I still do.

What irritated me most is when that asshole decided to land his lips right on her cheek, looking up and smirking at me right after.

My high now destroyed, I let my hand quickly fly up to my mouth, where I swore I took at least half the smoke in one go.

Frank eventually left, much to my liking.

The bell had rung by that point and I was forced to go to class, pissed off and on a terrible high.

That day was shitty to say the least.

And that wasn't the only time he pulled those kind of things. It was a common thing for him to talk to my friends, avoiding speaking or touching me. It was common for him to hug all my friends and skip away, leaving me to wonder what the fuck I did to get ignored.

It was also a common thing for him to stare at me. Any chance he got to get my attention, he'd take it. For one instance, he spent an entire assembly glancing over to me across the cafeteria. He'd just gotten a haircut, which apparently his father had insisted. This hair cut removed the blanket of brown that usually covered at least his forehead. I enjoyed his longer hair, and his short hair made him look more like his twin.

So at first I'd laughed at his haircut, that I found out later that he absolutely hated, until I began to notice that he wouldn't budge from his spot next to the door. He stood for an entire hour, through the whole presentation, and every time I would look over, he would be looking at me. I would have found it extremely creepy if I hadn't know that that was how he behaved.

He would always look, but not touch.

Because he didn't know what he wanted.

I always seemed to give him the vibe that I was pissed off at him. He always seemed to understand, at least, I thought he did. When I was pissed at him, he always seemed to have a bad day. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I found it amusing.

One thing I still kick myself for is how many times I apologized to him for being a bitch.

There was one time he decided to apologize, but why I don't remember.

My heels clicked loudly down the stairs. My goal, putting the attendance in the office. Unfortunately, the quickest way would pass his classroom. That day, I didn't really care.

And once again, unfortunately, when I thought I got away without him noticing, I hadn't.

I'd just dropped off the attendance and was headed towards the stairwell. I didn't realize he was walking down the hall beside me until I heard him call my name. I tried to convince myself that running through the doors would ward him off, but I knew better. He would have followed me.

"Amy, I'm sorry." He said. I felt like I was corner, and I became more and more nervous with how close he was standing.

Sadly enough, my memory is too shitty to remember what else he said to me. All I know is that he begged to be forgiven, and like the idiot I am, I said I forgave him.

He reached toward me, gripping me in a tight hug before he said a quick goodbye. Thinking I was free, I shoved the metal doors out of my way and fast walked up the stairs, pulling out my phone and trying to text Zoey to save me. She was in a computer lab, and most likely wouldn't have gotten my text anyway, but sending her a message made me feel safer.

I reached the middle section, where the stairs turned up and around to get to the next hall way. It took him two seconds to run quickly up the stairs after me and grabbed me shockingly quick.

"That hug before was shitty, I needed to give you a better one." He answered my unspoken question. I nodded.

"Have a good weekend Amy." He yelled as he ran down the stairs.

I bit my lip, walking back to class, wondering what the hell was wrong with his brain.

All I knew was that I seriously didn't dislike him chasing after me, just to hug me.

But other than that occasion, I was the one running after him, apologizing for being a bitch.

Probably half the time he didn't even know what I was saying sorry for. I don't even remember now. I do know that I was being dumb and weird for doing that. His problems and reasons to be upset weren't because of me.

Then again I don't know that for sure, seeing as I don't live in his brain.

As much as I'd love to be able to predict his thoughts and words, I can't. I try often, and every time the situation plays out, he never acts or says what I saw him doing. He's strangely unpredictable.

But that's probably one of the reasons why he doesn't know what he wants.

Hinthintnudgekicktolaterchapter.