Bi-Polar Opposites

Blondie and I couldn't be more different.

She's 5'11, thin as a rail, and has long blonde flowing hair that seems impossible. She's a model. And I don't mean that in that "she's my best friend and I believe the best in her" kind of way. I mean that as a "she's actually a fucking model".

Me? Well, she thinks I have self-esteem issues. Which is probably true, but it's most likely because I have a fucking model for a best friend. Most girls believe that whole "there's an unnatural expectation of beauty" and "that's all photoshop." But I got to look at that unnatural expectation of beauty everyday while I was going through my fat stage. I get to wake up cuddling that non-photoshopped ass some mornings (eat your heart out, boys). There's nothing worse than going to a photo shoot with your 15 year old best friend only to be treated like you don't exist because you had a bad acne break out that week.

I like to call us The Beauty and the Beast, but Blondie usually ends up smacking me across the face. She's suggested getting a shock collar.

But I love her. There's a reason we're best friends. Sometimes even we don't know what the reason is, but it's there.

She's a model with intimacy issues, a sharp sarcastic sense of humor who thinks she's never going to get married. I'm the average girl who was voted "most likely to get married by 24" in high school because I'm such a hopeless romantic. And I've learned that's the most dangerous thing to be in this world.

-CrazyK