I feel pretty...oh so pretty...

...I feel pretty and witty and gay...and I pity...any girl who isn't me today

"You look amazing."

Sigh. That was what I needed. After an adrenaline-filled morning, complete with a presentation to the President and six Vice Presidents, I was ready to go home for an hour or so. He got there about 10 minutes after me, while I was in the middle of eating an apple. I showed him around my house -- we hadn't been together since I lived here. After looking around the downstairs and out back, I got the oh-so-casual, "can I see the rest?"

And then there was the obligatory tour of the computer room/office and the bathroom and the bedroom. Obligatory until he grabbed me by the back of my neck, kissed me and threw me down on the bed. I will let your imaginations go from here. Needless to say.....it was good. Very good.

Why I need the validation of a man to feel good about myself is beyond me. But I do. In fact, after the initial "you look amazing," he could have left. It was exactly what I needed. It was what I was missing when I didn't get to see J in Baltimore a few weeks back. It's what is continually missing in my life.

The logical side of my brain tells me that I'm attractive, that I'm pretty. But sometimes when I think that, it feels like my mother telling me I'm pretty. It doesn't count. Moms have to say that. And sometimes, you have to say it yourself. It doesn't feel the same. It doesn't mean the same thing.

To hear a man tell me that I look amazing, that I'm beautiful -- it's what I strive for. To hear a man tell me that I look amazing, to hear that when I'm naked, when he's kissing me -- there isn't an ounce of my being that doesn't believe him. That's what I crave. That's the validation I need. Without it, I feel ugly. I feel unwanted.

And even though I don't want B as my boyfriend, I was truly excited about having him with me at the party on Saturday. I was looking forward to having his arm around the back of my chair, having someone not related to me to dance with. And he pulled the rug out from under me. I want to believe that he truly has a conflict, that he just didn't not want to go, that he didn't get cold feet over the weekend. But even people I know ask that -- "do you think he really had a conflict? Or he just changed his mind?" It -- and their responses to it -- made me feel....icky. How's that for descriptive? It...he....the whole situation....made me feel unwanted.

And that was my frame of mind yesterday morning, when I made that phone call. When I called Chris. Chris -- who is so bad for me. But Chris -- who can be so good, at the same time. And now, even though a part of me is sad -- sad that it's temporary, sad that he won't be there when I get home from work, or there when I go to bed -- the rest of me is satisfied. And happy. And confident. And....pretty.

See the pretty girl in that mirror there? Who can that attractive girl be? Such a pretty face...such a pretty dress...such a pretty smile...such a pretty me!