Background

"Jenny Craig representative spotted with a burger and fries." This was posted a few years back in a tabloid I was reading. I think this is ridiculous; this world has gotten out of control. We all have the vision of a perfect woman she has to be skinny, have pretty eyes, smile, long legs, and "C" cup breast. I for one have none of these so am I ugly? Should I just stay in my house and own a bunch of cats? (Which by the way I'm allergic to) I think that when a person can fell anything but pretty just by turning on the TV or looking in a magazine, that this world has very bad views on what's "perfect" or "pretty". So this is my story of a girl who fell accustomed to this world's image.

Truly Sorry

She's fat and she has kinky hair, she has laugh wrinkles and a wide nose, she is quirky but is called weird. In reality this is how she feels about herself. She doesn't think she is pretty or even has a pretty personality, she just absolutely knows no man would love her the way she is. She is told she is pretty, funny, and fun to be with. This isn't only from girls, but the compliments from guys make her feel weird and uncomfortable she thinks they are making fun of her. I for one really like her, I mean as a pretty average guy I don't expect girls to hang all over me… but they do and when I turn them down, I'm automatically a jerk and full of myself. I think that girls who don't think much of themselves are unfortunate, but the ones who know they are or at least think that they are pretty are too cocky or too full of themselves. Mary for one is the kind of girl who doesn't think much of themselves; she tries really hard to be like the "perfect" girl. I really want to tell her that she is perfect just the way she is. It might sound corny and fake, you heard it before. But I really think that if she just stayed true to herself, deep down inside she would eventually would have accepted her body and listened to her friends. I played a part in her insecurity though. I feel horrible about it but I didn't know what to do. It all started when I met her the first time in ninth grade. We came to be close friends and we used to hang out every day. Then one day everything changed, she became giggly and started wearing more perfume around me, I knew what was going on and I liked it. But the guys on the football team made fun of my other friend who liked her and that guy ended up chickening out, and so I did the same except no one knew that I liked her, except her. So I started to avoid her and when she asked me about it I just told her I had a girlfriend, which was true I asked out Tina that day and I was accepted. So that was the end of our friendship. I think that my actions were cowardly because I also fell into the world's view of a "perfect" girl. Because she wasn't necessarily considered "perfect", I automatically thought I couldn't like her, the way she was. For that I am truly sorry, because I acted like a jerk and was full of myself. What she did to herself was permanent and so were my actions. When she came to school sophomore year you couldn't even recognize her anymore. She got a nose job, which I heard that it was because a sinus issue. She permed her hair and got a tan. She lost all her weight, rumored she had surgery but I would never know for sure. She bought a whole new wardrobe and started using her full name Rosemary, instead of just Mary. I have to admit, she looked like a Victoria secret model, but an unhappy one. When some person called her pretty she would say thank you and frown. I have an idea why she frowned. Think that she feels that she was only considered pretty after she changed her appearance. But this isn't true; she just never listened to the compliments that were showered on her every day. I just really want to tell her I am sorry for the way I handled things. I want to tell her that I thought about her every day. I want to tell her that she was pretty, that she had the best personality, and that I loved her the way she was born, quirky and happy. But I guess hindsight is 20/20. My grandmother used to tell me, "Give me my flowers when I'm alive, I don't want them when I'm dead." I didn't do that for Mary, I showered her with flowers after she died. I waited until it was too late to tell her I loved her. For that, to I am sorry. She died six months ago and I didn't get to say goodbye, but I didn't deserve to. I rejected her for a girl who was considered the "perfect" girl; she saw this as a slap in the face. She saw this as an excuse to change everything about her. But it just made her a very unhappy person. If that car never hit her would I fell this way? Probably not, I would probably still feel bad for my actions but I wouldn't say anything. And that scares me; it scares me that I think like that. If I were to tell her that I'm sorry and I would like her to be mine, she would probably shoot me, she would say that I didn't want to be with her until she looked different. In a way that's true, but I would deny it and make her feel worse. At her funeral I played a song for her… on my iPod and only I could hear it. I had made a promise that I would sing to her someday, I broke that promise and just played the song, I listened to that song, slept with that song. Because of me she lived her last days in misery, and for that I don't deserve to live. So that is why I committed this suicide and I hope everyone who reads this gives me enough pity and forgiveness to miss me. But I will understand if you don't, I wouldn't forgive either.

-Samuel Simmons