Last night I was on the phone with my boyfriend-- I was buzzed, but he was more drunk. I was telling him about my night, blah blah I stayed in, got drunk because I hadn't eaten dinner, made myself a mushroom-spinach-and-swiss egg white omlet. Here's the convo from that point on:

him: There's not even meat in that! I'd be so skinny if I ate that.

me: yeah, but the egg has protein..

him: why don't you ever eat meat? (pause, then says in silly voice) Are you skin and bones?

me: no! not at all! (true life. fuck) and I do eat meat! I have fish and eggs and chicken!

him: you must be skinny.

me: no... I will be eventually though. I mean not skin and bones because that's gross (lies).

him: you looked so good this summer.

me: I know... I got so fat in italy (laughing to avoid crying). Like seriously.

him: (laughing, and then long pause) why would you say something like that?

me: (laugh to make it sound like I'm not attacking him. I'm attacking me) See you can't even deny it! I'll be skinny again soon.

him: just laughs...

I'm glad he was drunk. OR at least more than I was. I think he worries about my eating a little sometimes, but I've never gotten to the point where he should be worried so I think he ignores it. Because (dun dun duhhhh) point of the conversation: HE LIKES ME SKINNY!

So I'm fasting until Spring Break when I see him. Two weeks. I need to get a water bottle so I don't die. Or pass out (more likely). But I'm not any thinner-- I STILL DON'T HAVE A FUCKING SCALE AHHHHH. I'm going by waist measurement I guess. I'm going shopping for big-little week this weekend so maybe we can swing by target and I can get one. Not that I even want to know what I weigh right now.

I'm also going to the gym every day. No excuses. I get TWO skip days from now until spring break... that will probably be Tuesdays, since I have class from 8:30am until 10pm and trying to squeeze the gym in there would rush my workout.

I just need to keep that in my head. He couldn't even deny that I was fat. Yet he still calls me beautiful. He is the most loving supportive amazing boy I have ever met. He likes me better skinny and is too sweet to say it.

Oh sigh. My head is so fucked up. I look at a plate of food and think either (a) I'm not eating any of that, or (b) I'm eating all of that and then going through my fridge and eating everything in sight. Fuckkkk this.

Skinny. Two weeks. How many inches equals 20 pounds? That's an impossible goal, I'm setting myself up to fail, but if I work super-hard maybe I'll get somewhere close.