Perfect World

I've decided that in a perfect world, I would be six feet tall, 115lbs, sleek and dark with stunningly bright blue eyes, high cheek bones, hairless on my body, with smooth soft skin, and I would be that way for my whole life no matter what or how I ate, and I would just be in a permanent state of body. I would be ok with aging and getting wrinkles and gray hair and all that, but I would stay tall and thin and lithe. I was thinking about it, and I would love to be in the Groundhog Day situation, where everyday I woke up to repeat the same day forever so that no matter how I ate I would wake up with everything reversed as if it had never happened. Every day I would wake up 80lbs light and free to do whatever I wanted because there would be no consequences, it would all be undone when the day restarted. I would love that, I would be so happy to have that as my reality.
I know neither of those is possible, but if I could live in a place of complete solitude for the rest of my life where no one would ever see me again, then I wouldn't care how I looked. I just feel like I have nothing to live for or to motivate me anymore, and if I don't have something in my life to make me happy and to distract me from the problems I have now like worrying about my appearance then it will be the only thing I think about for the rest of my life. I'm hoping that once school starts I'll be back to focusing on studying, which always helped to fill my mind and time during high school.
I liked talking to Steve yesterday. He's a guy who reminds me a lot of dad who works at Kroger. We've been friends for quite a few months now and I really like him. Anyway, Monday when I was talking to him, I talked to him for the first time about my demons, and how I feel like I have so little to offer and I don't know who I am or what I want. He said the world is better for having me in it, and that if he was 18 and unattached he'd be chasing me around, lol. And that made me feel good. I like connecting with "older" people. Not that he's old at all, but he is older than I am, which makes him relatively "older". I wish I was in that age group. I feel so young, and it feels like young people are "supposed" to be thin and attractive. I don't want to feel like that is the expectation for me. I feel like if I was fifty I would have better priorities than trying to make sure I'm thin and beautiful, I would just want to be healthy and glow with wisdom and maturity and compassion. But since I'm so young I don't have that expectation, I expect myself to be a thin little model who can put guys in a daze with a flip of my hair, or who carries herself with an aura of self-confidence that makes her walking down the street seem to be in slow motion, like all those movies where the guy glances at the main girl and is smitten and everything just kind of slows down while the camera soaks in the girl in all her attractive glory as she glides through her day completely oblivious of the attention and just how stunning she truly is. I always wanted to be the girl who was gorgeous and just didn't know it. Instead I have always been painfully aware of how unattractive I am and tried to not care. I tried to let my personality be the star, be the thing that defined me and made me an attractive person, but I never felt like that was enough. I had too much competition with girls who were not only full of attractive personality but were physically attractive as well. So then I decided if I can't accept myself, no one ever will, and I isolated myself with no expectations that anyone would ever want to be my friend or would ever be attracted to me. And I don't think I will ever believe that someone is attracted to me. I don't feel the capacity in my heart to fall in love. I'd feel too worried that he wasn't honestly in love with me. I'd feel like it was all a lie. I don't feel like I am loveable, or able to love. I want to be alone, but I also want to feel attractive, which is a strange combination. Why should it matter if I am attractive or not if I have no expectations of love? I don't know, but I do know that I wish I was fifty and well past any stage in life where physical attractiveness is anywhere on my radar.
But maybe I should make it my goal to be like a fifty-year-old in nature anyway, to try to focus my attention on mental and spiritual well-being and to only care about physical health rather than looks. I mean, honestly, I KNOW that's what my goal SHOULD be, and I know that would help me stand out, but again, I feel like I've lost a certain spark in my soul for life, for living, for being a person out to enjoy life and make the most of each moment through fellowship and love. I feel so absorbed in things that don't matter, I'm locked in a shell. I'm hoping college will help me come out. But of course I'm always hoping that if I'm lucky I'll get to stay thin too, and I'll get to be pretty in my own eyes. And of course I'll always wish that I was the six-foot, 115lb femme fatal whose individuality carries her through the world like on dazzling wings of gold. I spend so much time thinking of being someone else that I don't think I would ever believe that I was that person even if I did become her. Sadly I know what I want: I want to be permanent, permanently tall and thin, so that I can live a carefree life, not worrying about changing. I don't like change. I don't like the idea that 10 years from now people who know me now will see me and see that I've gained 100lbs and think of me differently. I want to ALWAYS be the thin girl, ALWAYS, and I'm afraid that during my life I'll let myself go and lose that identity, and people will have to change that perception of me. I'll be someone different in their eyes. It's hard going through life day by day not having anything to think about except food and how much I'm willing to let myself eat and how big or little I want to be. That's why I have hated this summer so much, I've had nothing on my mind except my weight, my appearance, and food. I wanted to go straight to college after graduation so I could start school at 80lbs and have schoolwork on my mind to keep me from gaining weight, but mom wouldn't let that happen. I've had to suffer through summer, suffer through weight gain, get used to the feeling of muscle instead of bones, and in the end I still just want to be a girl so thin she might die from it. How sad is that? I want to be so thin that I'm literally a bag of bones in skin, because that is the only time I feel "allowed" to eat. I feel like eating at a healthy weight is an overindulgence. I feel like eating now is an overindulgence. I want to be dangerously thin so that I feel good about eating, so that I feel like I really need it, so that I feel like I seriously might just die if I don't eat. But I don't think I'll ever get that low again. I don't think I have that kind of will power anymore, now that I've gone through this summer binging and eating I'm so used to that now, I don't think I'd be able to starve myself down to a bag of bones again. I just don't think I could force myself through it, no matter how much I'd want to. If I had things my way I would be in the Groundhog Day situation on a day when I weighed 79lbs, that would be my perfect scenario. But that's not going to happen. I know it, I guess I accept it, but that doesn't mean I like it. I'd give anything for it. Pathetic, I know. But right now, it's all I can think of that I want: the freedom to eat everything with no consequences whatsoever, no permanent damage or change, just wake up the next morning with things exactly as they were before.
I'm so sick of this. Oh well, three more days and then I leave for Abilene. I pray I find some purpose there.