The Power of Suggestion

I hate photos at the moment. I don't mind taking them, I don't mind the moment when they're being taken if I'm in them but invariably when I see myself in the finished product I feel repulsed. And sure, repulsion is a strong word to use but there doesn't seem to be anything that matches the way I feel. As a woman, it only takes one guess why I would feel this way - of course my weight. It's plagued me for years, my ultimate enemy. And the problem is I am neither fat nor thin. Just the chubby in between, which can now be viewed as a skinny girl eating too much and exercising too little.
The reason I hate photos is because they serve as the ultimate reminder. That no how pretty you felt at the time, how attractive and desirable you saw yourself, the photo is the actual evidence of what really happened. Courts accept photograph evidence and not emotional testimony and so goes my self. And what's terrible is we live in a world where everyone has a camera - phone cameras, digital pocket size cameras, so there's a chance you'll always look good, or always look bad. You'll be condemned to that one image.
I guess this feeling comes from a few recent outtings. It comes from not really feeling happy in my body and having no experience of anyone cherishing my body (which sounds completely Mills & Boon.) But seriously, in the intimacy stakes, the actual moment of being seen and feeling either adored, or desired, or wanted has never happened for me. It absolutely moritifies me that someone would have to see me naked, I just don't believe anyone could find what lies beneath cleverly drapped clothes attractive. And I feel so ultimately rejected, by my own making, and so of course that starts the self hatred.

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There's nothing worse and nothing better than when people suggest things to you. It can completely lead you down the wrong road or show the best way forward. The problem with the power of suggestion is that, it gives false hope. Because it's completely the suggestors interpretation of the situation. It has little basis in reality and little actual fact on which to base. Well I guess that's my specfic case. And right now, writing this here, this way, I take a gamble. Because the people involved are good people, are wonderful people but it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to read between the lines and figure out who is who, and of course, then comes the stilted afterward conversation and the weird tension and the not a romantic-comedy ending of oddness. I don't want that ending, that's why the suggestions themselves were so dangerous. Because before that, they were unspoken, of course it was there, but they were unspoken and it was easy, well easier, to pretend it didn't exist, that that reality just wasn't there. Now though, it's been outted and of course, the other choice was taken. And really, I'm being dramatic I know, but God, just once, just for one time, I wish someone would maybe, hesitate and chose me. Why can't it be that simple, why can't it be a God DAMN romantic comedy in which the scales fall from their eyes and say of course I will choose her, because all this time it's been what I secretly wanted. It doesn't happen that way though and it didn't. The choice was made and it wasn't me and my speciality, as the friend continues. I win the award for most chosen friend, most easiest girl not to develop any feelings for. Most friend.