rants. kinda long

He's waiting for me. T is. I asked him not to. And I wish he wouldn't. I feel like I'm ruining his life because he's waiting for me.

There's been another girl. I mean. After Molly. And I guess... before me... she was a debutante. For some reason he likes me better than that. And I don't want that. I don't want him to like me better than all the wealthy pretty girls that he goes to school with. I don't want him to be miserable thinking about my boyfriend and me. I don't want him to wait for me. I don't want him to think that I led him on. I don't want him to think that I haven't done everything I possibly can to discourage him. I mean. I was excited about this other girl. I knew she wouldn't last long. Since he was dating her and in love with me. But I thought for sure that it would *help*

Of course not. I'm wrong like usual.

My boyfriend on the other hand. The one I'm oh so madly in love with.

Yeah. He's playing poker while I'm typing this. So he won't have to listen to it. He won't have to deal with the fact that I'm *outraged* by the fact that my best friend is still in love with me. He thinks it's over. He thinks it's done. That I settled everything that night. My heart was just getting over being broken. and now FUCKING this. I hate it. I hate all of it. FUCK this.



I hate being fat. I hate the fact that I gained fifteen lbs. I typed ten . but lets be honest. it wasn't ten. I hate feeling the way I do now. I know all this manual labor shit is good for me. But I hate it. I hate all of it. I want to crawl in a hole and not come out.

Most of all. I hate the secrets. And I hate the lies.