I can't remember. I can't remember his face. I search my every memory I have of him. I can hear his voice and feel his smile, but I cannot remember his face.Oh Gods, how can I have forgotten. Every time I tried to remember him before it got harder and harder, like he was slowly fading. In my dreams, I call to him. And he comes, sometimes. His rotting flesh and maggot-infested eyes haunt my dreams. And now he's gone. Truely gone. I want to cry, but I've forgotten how to do that too. -Catrina is nothing more that a whisper sometimes.- How can they fade like that? How can I forget them?
I fasted for 24 hours - from 6pm last night to 6pm tonight - and then ate and ice cream cone and three glasses of orange juice. So, again, the fasting was completely pointless. But the good news is that I'm down two pounds since Sunday.
Jason looked right at me, my eyes red and filled with a lifetime of unshed tears, and he didn't even say anything. He went right on talking like nothing happened, just like my dad, just like he didn't care. -A single tear rolled down my cheek.- I've failed. I've failed my Kyle: no longer can I remember his angelic face. I've failed myself: no longer do I feel control over anything anymore. I can't believe I let myself be so stupid, so dumb. Again! How could I ever believe that anyone cared about me? I really thought he did. But he doesn't, and I'm so stupid and weak for allowing myself to believe otherwise. No one cares about a fat, worthless, girl.
I don't even exist anymore. Night doesn't need me, I just think he does. I don't want anyone's pity, I hate pity, I just want someone there for me. Someone to listen to my problems and at least pretend to care and tell me that it's all going to be alright; even though I know it won't be. Why does everyone runaway when I need them? I'm going to stop 'needing', that way I can't be hurt. Much. I'm more alone now that I realized. I've grown soft and weak. There's no one there anymore, there's no one there for me. Actually, I don't think there ever was anyone there.
Ha. What Mother? I have no Mother. How do I explain to my English teacher that my gramma wouldn't fill out my homework assignment because she felt it was "my Mother's responsibility"? Ha! Her responsibility? Since when has that ment anything? I rake the leaves, mow the lawn, turn the compost, cut brush, burn brush, weed the gardens, wash clothes, wash dishes, hold a part-time job (she doesn't even have a job!), volunteer at the pet hospital, keep up a 3.7 GPA, cook, clean, and take care of everything! INCLUDING HER! While she sites up there in her happy-yellow room writing lover letters to a guy that doesn't even love her and ignoreing everyone and everything outside of her happy little bubble of perfection. Mother? No, I have to Mother. "Why can't you father fill it out and sign it?" my loving gramma asks me. Why? I'll tell you why. Because this is the first time I've seen my daddy in over three weeks, and I only saw him for one hour. I can't bother him, he has enough worries. He wouldn't understand anyway. I don't care anymore. I just don't care. Let the whole world see my pain. I'm sorry I'm hurting. Yes, shame on me. Shame on me for feeling pain, shame on me for not pretending to be perfect for you all. Send me away again, cast me out. Forget me, disown me. Yes, send the bad girl away. I'm not afraid anymore, do your worst. All I can do is cry and bleed. Go ahead, punish me. I deserve it, I deserve to die. I'm going to wear t-shirts and I'm not going to care. Do you see? You can't ignore my suffering any longer. I will make you all see! I just want to die. Yes, die. Maybe then I'll find peace. Maybe God will welcome me into Heaven with open arms. And I'll never know hunger, nor pain; never be afraid, never be alone, never worry about my imperfection. Maybe in Heaven God will love me, maybe I'll find happiness. But I fool myself. There is no God and there is no Heaven. And if there is, He has long forsaken me. Oh, Gods! I just want to fade away! Let me die! Please! But no, I can't do that. I must live for others, not for myself. What would I ever do if they left me? I'm sorry, but the scale and razor are my gods now.
Cutting no longer works. I mean, it helps to clear my mind and let me relax for a little bit, but it doesn't release anything anymore. I don't feel numb or pain or anything. I don't know why. I don't really care why, I just want to go back to before. But I can't. So I cut deeper every time, trying to reach what's left of my soul; trying to let everything bleed away. What should I do? I don't feel like I have control over anything at all anymore. Cutting has been a large portion of my life for as long as I can remember. Cutting and hiding it. Maybe I've out-grown it. But habits aren't broken, only replaced. I guees I need something to replace it, at least in part. -.Hello, Ana. I'm your new best friend. Teach me how to be perfect.- Maybe when I'm perfect again it will all make sense. Maybe.
I haven't felt like writing in here. I'm sorry to all those who actually read my site. -.Count the minutes until the next day, can't stand to live this way. Count the heartbeats until I die, can't stand to be alive.- See? This is what happend when you put trust in people - .they.let.you.down. I can't sleep anyway, so I might a well read. I ate so damn much today; fasting tomorrow and hopefully tuesday.
