ShesUntouchable (shesuntouchable) wrote in rumandsodomy,

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Just some of my shitty ass writing about shitty ass stuff.

I can push him away and push him away.
I can push them all away and be that girl.
That girl who never smiles unless it's forced. It's forced when the guys give you the free drinks and you say "thanks" and smile and pretend to care that they're whispering in your ear about you and them and finding somewhere private so you can "talk."

I can be the girl who is constantly falling apart. I can be that girl.
None of this matter, nothing in the real world matters. All the breaks ups and drama and bad hair days and lost friends. None of that matters when you've got this whole private world in which you can bury yourself.
No, I don't care if you can't afford a manicure this week, I've got more important things to worry about.
Like food and weight and drugs and exercise.
Like how many shots of vodka I can take and how many pills I have to swallow before I'm on the floor.

Constantly falling apart.
And all your stupid little drama doesn't even matter.
I've been dying for years.
And you're worried about if your outfit matches, if your hair looks okay, if those pants make your but look big.

There's truth in this somewhere, but you just can't find it without the help of someone who knows what the hell I'm talking about.

Oh no doubt, I care about if my but looks big too, but it's so much more than that.
It's the attitude, it's the air, it's the pulse that you give off. People can just see it in the air around you.
You can't even grasp this.
Too far away and too far gone.
Take notes, people. This is life in the fast lane.
Your heart beats so fast and no one can quite catch you.
And only one person can make you slow down.

Only one person is worth your time.
Everyone else is just a stepping stone on the path that you're taking. Every man is just something to waste your time with. Except him.
Everyone else would tell you to slow down if they could, but they're not even trying to keep up, and before they get the words out you're off and gone to find someone else.
You won't slow down for anyone but him.

But he.
He doesn't even want you half the time.
Maybe that's why you only listen to him.
The only person who isn't fooled. The only man who isn't fooled. He isn't stupid. He isn't fooled by this game.
And that's why you want him so bad.

This isn't going to make sense in the morning.

Don't you just hate these words?

Everyone hates me.

I need to eat less and write more.

"You should take more pills to ease the pain; lay in his bed a little while longer and think about how it used to be. All you ever really wanted was to move away from everyone you used to know and live a life of glamour. No food, no sleep. Lots of drugs and drinking and random men. But something got in the way. Something always does. It's because you really do love him, and there's nothing you can do about it but start over and try for that life again. Perfection would only come if he would live that life with you. Flash to late night sex, too many drugs and getting thinner everyday. You were made for each other but you refuse to admit it and give into the imperfection that is your own pathetic life together. Fight and bicker and run back to each other for a week or two of late night phone calls where you confess all your darkest secret all over again. Nothing has ever felt so perfect and true. It's like the most satisfying unhappily ever after ever written. You'd do anything to have the life you know you'd have if only he'd call you back every once in a while. What will it take this time? How many days will it be before you can eat again? How many days? Why can't he just give up and accept the truth? You were made for each other and nothing will be right until you're together."


From the paper writing journal. Jan 23, 2006.

-She can't remember the last time she felt completely normal or whole.
-Everyday a different piece of who she used to be breaks loose and falls to the ground like leaves at the onset of autumn's cold breezes.
-As the weeks fly by she begins to understand that this will eventually take her life.
-Whether by life she means actual death, or simply just that the future she had planned will be stolen from her... there's no way to tell which at this point.
-But by this time its clear to her that the possibility of a "normal" life, free form the lingering aspects of this sickness is not possible (whether it's a physical weakness that will haunt her until she dies of old age.. or simply the mental thoughts of fatness still dwelling inside her head that becomes the thief that steals her right to "normal", she's not sure.)
-If things were going to go away and get better it would have already happened.
-She knows that after 7 or 8 years of living with mental sickness every moment, there's no way she could ever truely be free from it.
-She stares death in the face from the moment she wakes up in the morning until she lays down in bed at night and closes her eyes.
-Death is just waiting for the right moment to end it all, and even if the actions of having an eating disorder were put to rest, the damage is done and Death knows this. He waits by her bed; he waits for the day to end her life because he knows she has less time to live than an average person.
-Death will be her only friend. Dying will be a peaceful rest, and she will deserve every silent, cold moment of her dreamless, unending sleep. Because then and only then will her mind stop its ceaseless chattering and give her peace.

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