Blueprint

The part of me that enjoys finding things happens to find the impurities of my body. When I go to the bathroom to take a shower, I wish once more each time that I wasn't obsessed with looking at my naked body. Counting the folds. Staring at the stretch marks and the sagging skin. Moving my thighs just to see if they've begun to shake less. Stare at my face critically and cinically. Why do I look the way I do? Whybis it so hard to find the inner skinny girl I know is there? Why must I want to see the blueprint version of me, 10 sizes smaller than the reality of the being? If I was just slimmer, if I was just less meaty. If I could look at my face and like what I see. The blueprint of me in my eyes is my true form, just expanded 100 times. In my eyes, I see a blimp staring at me through the mirror. "Who is this girl and why is she here?" I then remember; it's me. I begin to think that I'm not worthy of love or dignity or compassion. But then I think of him. I think of how much he loves me, how much he cares. I'm surprised he tolerates me; the self-hatred, the bitterness towards myself, the low-self esteem, the insecure feelings in feel. He tolerates me complaining about my weight, me dissing my face. When in sit on his lap, ibask him if I'm hurting him. When he says no, I have doubt's in my mind. Questions. Isnhe lying? Am I too heavy for this 110-pound-guy's legs? Am I applying too much pressure? Does the angle he's looking at me from make me look uglier, fatter, unappealing? Are my pants covering everything? If he puts his hands on my lower back, will he feel my underwear? If he does, will he enjoybitnor be disgusted by it? I hope he's not hiding any discomfort from me. What if he is? What if he figures out I'm not good enough? What if he begins to change his feelings? What if he lea- No. I will not make myself miserable with my questions, my constant line of ramble. It is niwbthay I think of how he's promised himself to me. I think if how he tells me he loves me. I think of HJS blueprint of me in HIS eyes. Perfection. He says I'm beautiful, amazing, a blessing, perfect. He sees me in a light I didn't know what possible. He says "Hey, pretty girl", and of course I look his way. How could I not when Hus blueprint of me is something I m willing to try and see for myself? Its the least I could do for a man who asked me if I wanted him to wear a ring on his left ring finger to prove he wants me forever. All I did was look at him in shock and say " What?" I wanted to say yes, but I didn't say anything for I knew that if I said that word, the sentance "But you have to buy me a matching one" would follow, to prove how much I love him so. To prove my commitment. To prove to other that I'm taken. But I don't want him to buy me things. His love, hugs and kisses are the greatest treasures. But the greatest if all is his blueprint of our future.