Lack

I hate everything. I hate boyfriend. I hate him so much. He might become exboyfriend soon.
Best friend(J) thinks I have an eating disorder.
Neighbor/lover T has an eating disorder.

I may as well write down my weekend adventures.
I didn't eat until Saturday night.

Friday, I went to a generic cool kid dance. I got a call from my friend who lives aout an hour aay. For some unexplained reason she was in town, and quite intoxicated, and alone.
I wanted to go get her, but I couldn't leave, I had no ride.
So I sent others to find her, and save her.
T and me sexy danced the night away. Like, couples slow dancing weren't as close as we were. I could have kissed her. I'm pretty sure that chick is in the closet and the door is locked, barricaded, and she's got a gun pointed at whoever tries to open it.
Halfway through the night, T pulls me to the hall,and admits she hasn't eaten since Sunday. I told her I had eaten since Monday. We awkwardly smiled.
We started talking. We want to be small, teeny tiny, "Purse sized" as she out it.
T said growing up I was her inspiration. And I was. I was so perfectly thin.

Anyway, she nearly fainted. But its worth it to be thin, right? Right.

I didn't eat Friday. I just had 83749845 diet pepsi and some diet snapple.
I didn't eat breakfast at J's saturday. She had dougnuts, I "ate" some mutigrain cherrios.
I was 156 on her scale.
I was so happy.
I haven't been under 157 since I can remember.


I left around 11 to go pick up boyfriend.
He got me an adorable teddy bear and a necklace.
He's such a sweetheart.
He told me he loved me.
He kissed me.
I said I loved him.
He kissed me, harder.
To  make a long story short, we did it.
How romantic.
I wasn't a virgin before, but he knew I wasn't ready.
I didn't feel anything. I didn't like it, I didn't hate it, literally, nothing. It didn't even feel good, and I think he knew that.

Then that little snake made me eat. And it wasn't alot, I know.
half a slice of pizza, some salad, some fries.

Then he went home.
And then I freaked the fuck out.

I ate. Holy shit I ATE.
Like, I was literally shoving slice after slice into my mouth, I wanted to cry, I didn't wanna live.
I was having horrible, horrible flashbacks of previous partners.
Previous, unwanted, forced partners.

I woke up, weighed in. 160. fuck, fuck fuck.
My stomach literally hurts. I think I stretched it after I spent all week shrinking it.
My digestive system is fucked.

My mommy made a yummy breakfast. My favorite breakfast.
I couldn't even get out of bed. My stomach fucking HURTS.

And now the fat girl in me is awake.
She wants food.
My brother is downstairs making fried chicken and pasta.
fuck I want it. It smells so delicious.
I can't have it. I'm having a salad. And maybe a piece of chicken.
(I know, I shouldn't eat meat, blah, I want it bad.)

Today: (so far)

Jello - 20
asparagus steamed - 25
rice cake (1/2)         20
Caesar salad -         200 (guess)

Total:            235

I need to be under 160 tomorrow.
I need a fresh start.
I fucking hate everyone.
And during my binge, daddy looked at me and said

"Hey piggy, slow down. You're going to get heavier."


"The more calories you have the more you're going to hate yourself."


Even his supportive comments couldn't stop me but now they're bearing into my skull like a disease.

I also did some math, if I want advanced math + Science I need to get an A ATLEAST once and a B+ again.
So basically, I need two maths in math.
I'm good at math, hell, I even LIKE. math.
But my teacher is useless and confusing and chubby and I HATE her.
I hate everyone.

I need 159 tomorrow or I might die.
I probably will fast until Tuesday Night because 160 is NOT acceptable.