Bitter Bug

I looked in the mirror at my ass in leggings and didn't even recognize my own ass. I've lost a shit ton but keep refusing to weigh myself because the scale is a fucking bitch.

I never last long with any promise I keep to myself but with everyone else I manage to keep them...
I don't understand why I continue to fuck myself up.
If it's not physically then it happens mentally and it fucking happens a lot.
I don't even speak about it anymore because apparently according to Seth I'm emotional and sensitive. So why share anymore.

I don't understand. I used to be complete numb to the idea of tears and love and romance..
And now I find myself glamourizing the idea of being a wife and having children.
I don't know if it's me growing up or if it's the fact that I'm fucking single and lonely.

Did you know...
You can sleep with a man every night for years and even if it's the same one for 3 years and another for 7 months, it can still result in loneliness. Who fucking knew?

Your whole life as a little girl you wonder what it's like to love someone and hold them while you sleep, but then you do it and you do it for a long fucking time and BAM! what do you know?? You're still fucking lonely.   Because it's not the figure or the company that's going to make you less lonely. It's fucking you. You and your fucked up brain just have a way of taking a fucking detour around every moment you use to make yourself happy and it finds a way to make you feel fucking miserable again. Bored. Annoyed. Tired. Fatigued. Lazy. Lonely. Lost.

Like you take a deep sigh and look at everything around you in disgust. So you start throwing shit away. EVERYTHING MUST GO!
in the fucking trash.....

Everything.
Every single fucking thing.
Food.
Furniture.
Clothes.
Shoes.
EVERYTHING!
People.
You forget people. You forget yourself and you forget what makes you happy.
I'm bored
Go do something.
What the fuck do I like to do.... says me pathetically as though someone else is going to know the fucking answer!
You piece of shit go figure it out.
You have a sex life. You sleep with a man every night. You have a few friends [good ones who care] around you.  You have your aunt around the fucking corner. You have money. You have a car. You have shoes. A new fucking purse. Your hair is growing out. You studied.  You have everything you said you needed to be happy and yet.. what are you doing?
Blogging about how you have fucking everything you thought you needed and you're still fucking miserable you piece of fucking shit!
Ungrateful shit!
Ugh....

Why do I do this?



Routine.
Starbucks.
Again.
Smokes.
Coffee.
Scarves. [finally]
Out.


And alone........

-LR.