I made progress. I got happy. I got my shit together. We started talking more. Hanging out. I got fired, he told me it'd be okay. Then..I fucked it all up. Threw it all away. Went and slept with him again, apparently relying on him to drive me home since she ditched us at the cantina. So stupid. He must've seen the giant hickey on my neck. Obviously saw that I was a complete mess.
A mess. That's what I am. Maybe that's all I'll ever be.
Maybe there is some kind of . . . fate, d e s t i n y , thing, going on in life, and I'm just not meant to have my shit together, or to be with him, or to be happy or normal or balanced or okay in any way. I don't know.
I'm reading Prozac Nation, and at one point Elizabeth Wurtzel is saying how she wished, wished, wished that her problem was . . . an addiction, something real..something..f i x a b l e. tangible. Whatever.
But no. Emotional, mental, chemical, spiritual? imbalances..you can't see them, hell there's no proof whatsoever. So how can you fix what you can't even see.
intake..
150 -tuna
20 -balsamic vinegar
15 -cucumber
10 -lettuce
65 -pasta/veg
150 -chips
24 -salsa
55 -guacamole
20 -yogurt
10 -cranberries
total; 519cal
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