Reason for Living

As long as I can remember, I always had a Reason for Living. When I was younger, it was ballet. Or rather, becoming a successful ballerina. When I started high school, it was becoming a cheerleader. I was obsessed. With the outfits, the pom-poms, the girls who seemed untouchable out their in the middle of the field. I became a cheerleader. And promptly focused my attention on Jesse Collins. For 3 years, he was my reason for getting dressed, putting on make-up, and trying my hardest at games and rallies. The way I walked to class, where I had lunch, which bathroom I used, all for the sake of seeing him and hoping he would see me. If he did, I never knew.

And then I graduated. And moved to LA for college. And forgot all about Jesse Collins. But suddenly, oh so suddenly, I fell head over heels in love with my sometime high school crush, Zach. From more than 300 miles away. We talked online for hours, I spent every waking minute of vacations at home with him. Mornings, afternoons, evenings, nights...If he IM'd me first, I would be squealing for days.

But, inevitably, he broke my heart. In a bad way. And when I ran out of boys (cheerleading had long ago stopped being my Reason; all it took was to attain it), I turned to my weight. Bulimia and weight loss became my life for two years. Add in one more year of starvation.

And so, I always have to have a Reason for Living. Get my crush to notice me, get the boy I am dating to fall in love with me, get my boyfriend to marry me. And in the background of all that, LOSE WEIGHT. I desperately look for my Reason. I create one if I have to. And so I have created one in Computer Geek. But it has become less a Reason for Living and more a Reason to Hate Myself More.