Alcohol, cigarettes, and boobs.

So last night, my boyfriend and I were driving around and I said you know what? Let's go to Hyde Park. It's Friday night, the night is young and I think it would be romantic to walk around and be in love. If only I had known it would turn into a night of jealousy, tears, and evil eyes. So on our way, we were blasting Vampire Weekend, John Legend and Css until we finally arrived. The first place we noticed that was very over-populated was the Starbucks; It was 11pm and the place was still off the hook. So, I parked my car and we walked past Starbucks near the bars. On our way walking down the side of the road, we passed a bar where the alcohol was just seeping through the skin of young co-eds and the only way girls could stand up straight is if they were clinging on the arm of a man they were taking home for the night, a guy who, they probably only knew his "fake" name. Now I am going to throw this out there; I am not a drinker at all. I have had champagne at weddings and maybe a little here and there, but the thought of getting drunk to the point of no return and puking my guts out the next morning doesn't really come to my mind as a good time. After we walked down the side of the road for about ten to fifteen minutes, I decided that my boyfriend and I should turn around because partying is not really my scene. On our way back we saw these pretty girls all dressed up with boobs out, beers, and cigarettes. For some odd reason, they just mesmerized me (Now mind you, I was wearing flip-flops, a long sleeved shirt, and shorts, while my boyfriend was wearing Sperry's, khakis and a white collared shirt). Normally, I dress more appropriately but we had decided at the last minute to go to Hyde Park. Needless to say, I felt extremely under-dressed and I knew what these girls were thinking, "What is heee doing with her?". When we walked by these girls, a slow motion scene occured and they all looked me up to down, gave me a nasty look, looked at my boyfriend and smiled. I felt defeated. I am normally not a jealous girl but for some reason I had become extremely self-conscious, insecure, and ugly. My boyfriend held me tighter and told me that girls with ten pounds of makeup on, provocative outfits, and cigarettes were not attractive nearly an ounce. I immediately had felt relieved. I knew my boyfriend loved me and not those girls and I shouldn't have been so over-reactive, but I began to cry. I cried because of those girls, I cried because I felt boring. Now it's a brand new day and I feel so dumb for crying last night. I fell asleep next to the man of dreams, those girls probably will never find love at a bar, and I know that I am beautiful no matter what.