I’m sat in the computer lab watching a programme about mental illness. Last night I told my friend that sometimes I hurt myself.
My boyfriend keeps telling me to come and see him because he misses me and it’s too hard without me, but he won’t come and see me, despite having numerous hours of free time on his hands.
I don’t understand that.
I really, really would like a chocolate bar right about now.
There’s always so much I want to say, and never enough space for all the thoughts to be around and spill out properly in a coherent and competent way.
I think I want to make my boyfriend a dot to dot picture for Christmas, but I’m not sure what I’d like it to be of.
I don’t even know if we’ll be together at Christmas, because he finds it ‘so difficult’ being away from me. Bollocks.
Why can’t he just love me? Why is it so difficult? I just want to eat and eat and eat. But then I’ll just get fatter and he’ll finish me for being a blimp. ARGHHHH. Could this life be any worse?