Oh and I don't know
I don't know what she's after
But she's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster
The bitch is back, ladies and gents. She's back, and as fat as ever. Hasn't managed to lose much at all. Eats like a fkn cow. The usual, you know? But she doesn't mind, because at least she hasn't GAINED. And at least she usually manages to stay below 135. So suck it, fattymcfatpants. She's not backing down.
Yeah, there was one time I dipped down to 129, but of course I fkd that up, so whatever. Take a deep breath and move on. There's always tomorrow to do better. Always. And I'm finally remaking my decision to put aside the fattiness and return to the pure emptiness of... whatever this is. I am not ana, by any stretch of the imagination. I lack the willpower to truly embrace it. But whatever it is I should call myself, I'm back. I'm back and it feels good.
I can't get there by 'eating healthy' and 'embracing who I am'. Will I ever be happy if I can't look in the mirror without wincing? Can a person truly be happy when they know they're not beautiful? Maybe some people can, but not me. That's why I'm back, chasing the elusive beauty this lifestyle promises.
So much has happened since I last posted. I broke up with C a couple weeks ago... something *ahem* major almost happened, but we got caught by the friggin cops. That pretty much took away anything I'd felt for him to begin with, so I ditched it. I didn't really feel for him the way I thought, anyway... the only reason I was about to do anything with him was... I just wanted to try to feel something, you know? He really likes me, so I wanted to like him too. At that point I'd pretty much given up my hope of ever finding my 'one true love', so I was ready to just settle for someone--anyone. Just a warm body I could hold and pretend that maybe this is what love could be. It was a lie, though, because I'd experienced love. This wasn't it. So after I had my excuse, I escaped, and in the process, somehow found my heart again.
I'd known this guy for four years. He'd been my best friend through everything. Everything. Through R, through C, through everything. He knows about this... and other things I don't feel comfortable even telling you ladies... and yet he was still my friend, even though I felt so fucked up I didn't think anybody could be. So I was emotional and told him that I'd had a crush on him FOREVER.
And he told me he'd felt the same. Forever.
Problem? He lives in California.
Solution? Take the job I've had for almost two months now, begin saving so I can run away for a week or so to see him. I'm almost 17 now. What can they do to me? What can they ever do to me, when I've already had worse done to me by myself? By my own mind. So I'm going to do it.
He's perfect for me. It's like I've finally found my missing piece. The moment I knew he felt the same about me... it's like my heart stopped feeling so restless, so dissatisfied. Because he was what it yearned for, what it needed with every beat. He's the one I can tell anything to--I can be completely honest and know that he's not judging, he just wants to help me in any way he can.
This is it. If this isn't motivation, I don't know what is. This isn't just about looks anymore. Though they do play a role, it's about perfection now. He's so utterly, devastatingly perfect, now it's my turn.
The clock is ticking. Am I going to win this round?