Beautiful

He is one of the most beautiful, amazing, sensitive, genuine people I have ever met. He'll share his thoughts and ideas and history and hobbies, and it's all breathtakingly beautiful. I yearn for him, to spend time with his head in my lap, stroking his skin and listening to him talk, or being still with music softly playing in the background. To trace every scar, to read the story of his body. He's incredibly attractive, but it honestly has so little to do with physical appearance...his internal beauty is indescribable.

But his eyes. His pain is written deep within them, and even when he's smiling and being silly, if you look hard enough, you can see it. And once you've seen it, you can't unsee it. There's a sense of the weight of life pulling down on his slender frame, in a way that reminds you of every great artist who's ever died young. It's mesmerizing, and utterly terrifying. I spend much of my time worrying, wanting to hold him and reassure him that there is good in the world, that he is good, that he is loved for who he is, not what he gives or does. But sometimes that weight he carries crushes him. Sometimes I add to that weight, unintentionally, and it feels like kicking a kitten. He is beautiful and fragile, and I want nothing more than to hold him and bandage his wounds, to be his legs when he feels he cannot stand.

But I can't. It's not physically possible, or emotionally possible, for so many reasons. But I care. God, do I care. I feel like a bully for caring, like somehow my caring only makes it worse, but I don't know what else to do. He's so bright, and so goddamn beautiful.

A pair of loving eyes. Balloon flowers. Ferris wheels. A lush forest-y area. The bond between a Master-slave couple. Most animals. A circus......these are the things that I thought about apon reading the word "beautiful."

There are so many beautiful things in the world I want to be a part of, and I can't, so it makes me fixate on the negative aspects of sticking to just one thing.

Someone pick a major for me. Requirements: good career path, allows me to make -just- enough money to survive (and not a penny more), allows me to spend time with my daughter after I graduate (no 60+hr/wk).

I like myself.

It's beautiful.

someday, i wish to find a man who thinks i'm the most beautiful girl in the world. well, i'd rather him find me.

but... i only think of myself as merely "cute".

Someone trying to help me linked me to an article for men on how to attract women. It was a lot about adopting a confident attitude. I've heard all that before, and I reject it outright.

While trying to explain why to the friend, I finally came up with a good way to vocalize a lot of why I'm the way I am:

I find a lack of confidence compelling, and beautiful. And as such, I manifest it in myself on purpose, because then it makes ME feel beautiful.

If that makes me a turn-off for most of women kind, then I'm sorry. But I'm not going to change that.

All I've ever wanted is to be beautiful.

Instead I'm just desperate.