Phase One:
Appreciated for brains and talent. Never given a second glance, much less a first.
Phase Two:Advantage taken of my "good" looks and body that looked perfect in tight jeans. No one took the time to realize I had a personality or intellect worth noticing. Just a pretty [ordinary] face.
Phase Three:As the realization of one begins, the other quickly fades. Only by the few.
Phase Four:Terrified that I don't possess either anymore. Both have just evaporated with the quickest passage of time to ever exist.
I fought so hard to get out of P1. P2 snuck right up on me without realizing what was happeneing. Elated, flabergasted, disgusted, and dissapointed all in one foul swoop. I thought the natural progression would include P1, not throw it completly to the side. There was a very short gap between P2 and P4. Miniscule. There was no sweet spot, only a short slide up on both sides before they crashed together. Now I've got neither. My thoughts and words are a jumbled mess and I couldn't tell you which was up and which was down to save my pride.
Mind and body have slipped away. My greatest fear is that I'll be worthless to you, just a shadow of my former self. The stories and these pages will continue to exist but only in a novel sort of way. I'm really not smart [anymore] and what if I'm never pretty [again?]? I'm so young and so old at the very same time.
The rest of life terrifies me if I've already lived the "best years" and even they didn't come close to right.
Why is ordinary such a repulsive word?
What if I was perfect and now you don't even see me standing there in front of you? I'd open my mouth, but I'd rather seem a fool than remove all doubt.
Did I destory me? Who/what was it? Am I really ruined?
What happens when a problem has become the status quo? Is it even considered a problem anymore? Or is it rendered un-touchable/fixable? Must we just cut the loss and move on, tainted as we are?
Its a cold and its a very broken Hallelujah
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