I took a huge break from this site because I found my journal, so I didn't think I needed this.

I came back and saw re-read what I'd written back then.

And it's amazing how much it still stings how things ended.

He promised me he'd come see me on my birthday.

Even though we haven't talked in about a month, I'm hoping.

No, I'm praying, that he'll call.

Maybe even see me?


It's seven in the morning and I feel like I shouldn't sleep tonight, just a feeling.
So I'm going to go make coffee, and hopefully get over this stupid fantasy.


xox.me

I was terrified. It was six. Six in the fucking morning and sleeping clearly wasn't an option. I didn't want to dream. I didn't want to think. But I didn't want to stay awake anymore. It had been days since I'd closed my eyes and just let go. I needed to feel something other then this. No, I didn't need to. I wanted to. I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was common. I was going crazy. I was stuck in my head. Something had taken over me. I knew, simply because sometimes I would snap out of it and see the truth. In those very brief moments I felt so alive, so free. I felt like I could do anything. Worst and possible most damaging of all I felt hopeful. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe it was over. That I was possibly free to finally do what I knew, logically was normal. But soon enough, always too soon, it was back. It ate away at me. She ate away at me. Fight it. Fight it. But it'll never go away. And I only fell harder each time. You'd think by now I should have learned, but I'm stubborn by nature. Fighting it was damn near impossible, but going with it was just as difficult. When you feel empty you aren't satisfied, you want to feel full. It's no better when you've got your fill, you feel just as disgusting. It's almost pathetic. That something that started out so small could now be my whole world, and then some. You can try to hide, and believe me I do. Giant sunglasses and a few pounds of makeup don't do any good when you feel like everyone can see straight through you. It's so clear. And I'm terrified again. What if they know? Why are they judging me? Narcissism, that's all this is. You know why? Because no one is thinking of you. No one even notices you. As much as I would love to isolate myself from the world, I can't, because I know what'll happen if I did. I'd go even further into this. I'd sink. I'd drown completely in this. And I refuse to drown. I'll fight this to the day I die. I might not win, but I'll try. I see myself through those mirrors you see in the carnivals. Everyday there's a new problem as I pass by another mirror. Something's always too big, and sometimes things aren't quite big enough. The fun house isn't that fun anymore. And once again I find myself wishing I'd never bought a ticket. That'd I'd ripped it up and left when I had the chance. But I'm here now, and I'm pretty much locked in. And I'll walk around until I find that one mirror. The one that shows me what I want to see. The one that'll show me what I used to think, when I was 7 was beautiful. Snap out of it. Run away, while you still can. This really isn't as glamorous as they make it out to be.

He talked to me for the first time in two weeks. He apologized for being a jackass, but come on now. I don't think he means it. I just told him we needed to talk when he got home, because he was at a friend's. I doubt it. He was most likely at his girlfriend's house. Anyway. After I tell him that, I go to bed. I actually got sleep last night. At two thirty in the fucking morning, I hear something coming from on the ground. *beep* It's my fucking phone. I got a text message. I ignored it until I woke up in the morning. Oh course, it was from him. Word for word, here's what it said: "So, why are you mad at me?" I swear, if I didn't love him so much, I would walk to where he lived and give him a good knock on the head. Idiot. Other then that, I think I'm okay. I'm tired, and I have 10 days until the Marianas Trench show. I'm working out too much. And eating too little. I'll figure it out. I'll fix myself. But after the concert. Because I want to look good. You know. Incase I meet another him. I'll be okay this week. Some good things are happening. xox.me

It's been a very, very long week. He stopped talking to me because he didn't feel like dealing with my sickness. Well, he told my best friend that he was trying to teach me a lesson. I don't buy it. At all. Even if he is telling the truth, I'm still angry. I'm not a baby. I don't need to be punished. Especially for something I feel I have no control over. I'm tired, and my body hurts. I've been going to the gym a lot more. 5 times a week, at least an hour and a half. I've lost two more pounds this week. I know. This isn't healthy. But I don't feel like getting help just yet.

Kill me now? Just shoot me in the face. Please? The cycle continues. My old gym pants are loose as hell. Basically, they don't fit. I can feel my ribs when I move. They stick out. I can't lay down on my stomach without bruising my hip bones. They stick out. Everything hurts. So why am I doing this? Simple. Can't let it go. Not if I wanted to. And yes, I do want to. At least, I want to today. I'm thinking about getting help. Because I've checked my BMI, and I'm underweight. And this really isn't that fun anymore. Gr. My ribs hurt. Anyway. I think I'm going to go do some stretches, or something. Cause I'm stiff. And it hurts. xox.me

Pretty crappy week. Moms threatned to disown me. And she means it. Tried on a bathing suit. No fucking comment. I didn't sleep last night. But that's okay. 'Cause I'll probably drop dead tonight from exhaustion. I'm not over him. Not gonna be. Not gonna even try anymore. Not gonna get my hopes up, though. He belonges to someone else. On a brighter note, I went shopping with a few friends today. There was this adorable emoish boy in West 49 who kept talking to me. He worked there. And yeah, he pretty much made my day. Yesterday, with the same friends, I went to club Absinthe for the Marianas Trench tickets. I got them. And I was happy. This really adorable man was smiling at me. I think he was laughing a bit too, at how excited we were. I smiled back. It honestly sucks that I'm shy with cute guys. Have you noticed that I'm seriously trying to find a nice guy? Ugh. It's not fair. It really isn't. xox.me

There's something wrong with him. There has to be. Here's the deal. My Dad and I were fighting again. Because he wanted to stay the night and I refused. I told him no way, because I didn't trust him for shit. He rolls his eyes at me and says 'we have no real problems in this family anymore. Stop creating them.' Yeah. He actually said that. My response? 'Yeah Dad. You're a just a rapist. The kind that goes after kids more than a quarter your age. Nope, no problems at all.' So yeah. He got mad and stomped upstairs. Needless to say, he's not staying tonight. I don't trust him. At all. I'm going to the gym tomorrow. No doubt I'll pass out. Two hours isn't easy on an empty stomach. It's two in the morning. This insomniac is going to try and sleep. Doubt it, though. =) Night, everyone. xox.me

Ugh. Just when I think I ready to get better, he does this to me. The Fall Out Boy concert I'm going to, he's going to be there. See, that wouldn't be so bad, since we first met at a Fall Out Boy concert. But, here's the kicker. You ready? He's bringing her with him. And, to make this even better, he wants me to still talk to him and act as if nothings wrong. Ha. As if I'm capable of that. Honestly. What the hell is he doing to me? And he knows he has a bit of power over me. I'm sure of it. I hate what he's doing to me. As you've probably guessed, I have control issues. So, for someone to have a bit over me, then abuse it like he does is just amazing to me. He knows I have problems. Why is he being cruel? Does he notice? Does he know what he's doing to me? The thing that worries me the most is that if I see her, I'm going to need to be prettier. Thinner, for sure. And if I'm not, I'll just get worse. And worse. I don't want to die like that. Ugh. That's it. Just... ugh. xox.me

It's been a while. Sorry. I've been busy. So, I'm going to get over him. Because I can't be number two anymore. I really don't want to be second best again. I'm tired of that. You can't tell me you love me, and then purposely flaunt your relationship in my face. I know I'm not good enough, but I don't deserve this. So yeah. I'm working on getting over him. On the topic of my eating, I'm just confused. I go from wanting to get better, to loving my sickness. It's just stressful. On a happier note, I've got three concerts coming up. Hellogoodbye in Toronto. [3.10.07] Marianas Trench in Hamilton. [4.13.07] Fall Out Boy in Toronto. [5.26.07] Yeah, I'm excited. Concerts make me happy. And I like meeting new people. March break starts soon and I think I'm going to relax. You know, try and find out what I want. xox.me

So. He tells me he loves me. Which, by the way, I thought would make me feel better. Guess what? It didn't. It made things so much worse. And so much more complicated. He loves me. And I love him. But, see, there's this other girl. And he loves her and he loves him, also. Even though she treats him like shit. He deserves better than her. And I know he deserves better then me. But I'll be okay. I was before I met him. I will be now. I'll still talk to him. Still love him. Just not get my hopes up at all anymore. But shit. I really really do love him. xox.me