The nurse taking my blood was so sweet. We’re just to chatting like friends for the whole like 20 minutes it took to do everything. She didn’t mention my scars but she did see them. She put a 🙂 on my band aid after I was done.
It’s the smallest most unexpected moments that make your day. Even when you’re getting blood work to check for STDs because your husband cheating bastard.
–> PB
Every single lyric is true.
Playing on repeat when all I want to do is sing it on repeat to him…
Why the fuck couldn’t you just stay?
Why did you give up on me?
Why couldn’t you love me enough?
Why wasn’t I enough?
———————————–
People like you always want back
the love they gave away,
And people like me wanna believe you
when you say you’ve changed,
The more I think about it now
The less I know
All I know is that you drove us off the roadStay
Hey, all you had to do was stay
Had me in the palm of your hand
Man, why’d you have to go and lock me out when I let you in
Stay, hey, now you say you want it
back, now that it’s just too late
Well could’ve been easy, all you had to do was stay
All you had to do was stayHere you are now
Calling me up
But I don’t know what to say
I’ve been picking up the pieces
of the mess you made
People like you always want back
the love they pushed aside
But people like me are gone forever
When you say goodbyeStay
Hey, all you had to do was stay
Had me in the palm of your hand
Man, why’d you have to go and lock me out when I let you in
Stay, hey, now you say you want it
back, now that it’s just too late
Well could’ve been easy, all you had to do was stay
All you had to do was stayLet me remind you
this was what you wanted
You ended it
You were all I wanted
But not like this
Not like this
Not like this
Oh, all you had to do was stay
———————————–
God I miss you so much right now… I wish I could come crawl into your arms right now and feel the way I used to. It was once the safest place in the world to be.
I’d give anything to make it feel like it used to between us.
I’m going to try really hard not to text him tonight…
No I’m not. I’m going to try for about 5 minutes before giving up and doing it anyways.
Sigh… The internal war within me has never been more brutal. And my stomach is definitely taking the brunt of the collateral as my new favorite cutting area to pay for my weakness.
–> PB
After succumbing to talking to Ryan for the last couple hours stemming from events today (which I don’t care to go into right now since it’s late) it off course ended with Ryan horny as fuck and begging me to come over. I admit, I had breakup sex with him twice. I went back there 2 weeks or so after. He was sad and i worried about him. That’s where he gets me.
But tonight.. It took a while to give a definitive “no”. But I did. He started really getting pushy which helped me. He’s still texting me. I said no and good night. This is what he said after:
“Send me something of you… With nothing but you.”
“Come on it will be amazing.”
“Doors unlocked”
Sigh. He may not know it since I never gave him my new address but he’s not even 1/4 mile away. So close. I can taste it. I can taste him. God, his fucking body is so intoxicating. I just have to remember… It’s not him. It’s not the same. It wasn’t before either. That was my reality check. I felt a little queasy the whole time and had a hard time getting off because his B-skank whore kept coming to mind. (Apparently things aren’t working out. NOW he’s wanting me. Surprise, surprise. 2nd best again.)
I was actually in bed early tonight. I’ve sacrificed about 4 hours tonight for him. Plus, unbeknownst to him, I spent a great deal of that time cutting my fat stomach with a razor. My own punishment for allowing myself to be so fucking weak. None felt very deep and most were more scratches. But I’m in the dark and I stopped feeling the pain after a while so I won’t know the damage until I wake up.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and just won’t.
–> PB
So I was just in Mcdonald’s and I saw this girl. I was filling up my diet coke at the machine and standing next to me was this girl who either worked at mcdonalds or was wearing of black uniform for some other reason. I watch her on my right at the other coke dispenser machine and give her the full elevator eyes: she’s about a foot shorter than me; she’s got straight, medium length hair that’s cut at about the lower part of her earlobe, straightened, and shiny dark brown; her black plastic glasses had polka dots on them. I study her body. Her frame was not fat, but short and curvy. She fills up her soda and I notice she’s also drinking Diet Coke. My very first thought, which made me rather curious, is that I wondered if she also hated her body. Did she also think about her weight ? Did she also stare in the mirror every morning and wonder why she was cursed to live in this body? Did she also struggle with binge eating, or starving, or throwing up?
She looked almost sad, melancholy if you will. She had this not dark but sort of just not as happy as I would have expected from someone who looked like her. I begin to wonder why she would ever hate her body. She looked beautiful. She looked adorable, and cute, and very cuddly. The word “cuddly” kept popping into my brain. It reminded me of what M-Bear said about my body. Whenever I said I felt fat he never necessarily disagreed with me. It always bothered me. But he kept saying that I was cuddly. He said that I looked plump. But I know he meant it in a good way, sort of how I use the word “adorable” or “soft” (when using it literally, not figuratively); someone who is overweight but not necessarily obese. And the weight doesn’t necessarily look bad on them. They look healthy and vibrant. And especially when you see someone like this who is genuinely happy and shows pride over herself, it’s really a beautiful sight. It makes them look so freaking attractive. I think I finally get why confidence is so attractive.
Back to the girl. After the initial notice and study, I thought about myself. I thought about my own thoughts and imagined them in her head, as I often try to do to get an outside perspective. An outside perspective can provide more unbiased view of the situation. My thoughts are so often irrational and yet I never seem to be able to notice this unless I take this outside perspective. I looked at her and imagined my thoughts in her head. Thoughts of hate and sadness. Thoughts of cutting her skin open. Thoughts of starving until she passes out just so she can try and achieve the “perfect weight”. She looked like she could be someone who did (wow, stereotypical much?) and I couldn’t figure out why. I imagined that soft body in my arms. Holding her, kissing her, making love to her. All so beautiful in my eyes. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could think this girl is “fat”. (Also, what does that even mean? So subjective. Bullshit.) I tried to imagine doing the same holding, kissing, and loving with a thin or petite girl. It was hard. Hip bones stabbing stomachs and bruised legs; like holding a possibly visually beautiful flower, but so delicate that it may shatter at any moment. And I’m not just talking “anorexic skinny”. I just mean the societal view of “skinny”.
Maybe that’s why M-Bear kept telling me that most guys don’t like thin women. They tend to be more attracted to girls with some meat. I don’t know. Why can I think that men are more attracted to curvier women, yet find myself so repulsive and desperate to be that thin? That maybe then I’ll feel beautiful. I’ll feel… enough.
Here’s to you, dollface. The beauty in the Mcdonald’s. ❤ -PB
Panda's Privates 