there once was a girl,

There once was a girl that loves to read books about cheesy teen romances. She read them with longing, jealously, and wanting. Wanting to be somewhere that there weren't the same people at school every day and where the variety of people was better, where it is harder for the school to know your business. Jealousy for the beautiful girls that don't know their beauty or do and have guys left and right. For their effortlessness in situations. Longing for someone special to make me happy, longing for the confirmation I crave.
Now, this same girl has grown and aged and become more wise, but all those things she wanted she still wants. She wants to feel beautiful and not self conscious, she wants guys to see her for who she is. She wants to have that effortless grace and beauty. She wants to meet better, sweeter guys that she reads about in her books. The ones who don't drink and party and smoke pot, who don't flirt with anything that breathes. She wants that fictional perfect guy.
She's been trying to feel good about herself, but it is a daily struggle.
She blames the town, she blames her genetics, she blames God, and she blames herself.
"If only my nose was a little smaller," "My eyes more colorful,"
She just wishes she could change things.
It's poisonous. 
Change how she sees herself, how other people see her and change her surroundings. But she knows this wont happen overnight.
So she tries.
And tries. And it gets a little better, day by day.
She tries.