A Poor And Wretched Boy.

I always feel like a dick because I find it so difficult to accept compliments on here. It’s strange. When it’s from people that have met me, it’s a little easier.

But I think the hard part is in knowing that these people don’t see a certain side of you. The bits you really, really don’t like. The insecurity, the flaws, all the little cracks that make up who you are.

Everyone knows no one’s perfect. And that’s good. The people that appear perfect are so often boring and disappointing.

Next week is 3 years since I started losing weight. Friday I have a 3 year follow-up including a psychological evaluation. It’s always intimidating. The diagnoses of Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and ADHD always makes me fear that with each follow-up I’ll end up learning something about myself that I didn’t before. That there’s another thing the medical standard finds wrong with me.

But I know who I am. And I think I’m fine as I am.

It’s so much easier to fall in love than it is to be in love.

All falling requires is a little naivete and a pretty smile.

Being in love is so much harder. It takes not only patience and a touch of anxiety. It takes a willingness to accept when you’re wrong. It takes peering into the worst parts of someone and knowing you want them anyway. And most importantly, it takes hoping for the impossible, that they’ll love you back and your beings will intertwine endlessly until the strings binding you together are cut, or you’ll wrap around each other until you end up as one forever.

According to the tumblr inbox, I’m attractive now.

So when do I get famous. loljk.

But.. like.. Can somebody tell me the moment this became decided?