until your lips turn fucking pale violet.
∞: truth is.
I’m terrified. I’m utterly terrified. I’ve learned so much about this and the outcomes of it ever since I was 12. I don’t want to lose you. I’m terrified of not being with you. I can’t go through a single day without thinking about what you’re doing to yourself. As safe as you make it sound, I know that it’s absolutely dangerous. I know how significantly close you are to crossing the line of malnourished. I don’t know why you have to. You’re beautiful. You’re beyond it. Skinny or fat, as cliché as it sounds, I’ll always love you. I always will and you know that. And so will everybody else. You will, no matter what, be the most beautiful person to me. And if anybody says otherwise, they can go fuck themselves because you’re imperfectly perfect. Looks honestly. Don’t matter. They never matter in the end. If they did, then what is love? I’m just afraid and I can’t help it. My heart’s too fragile to watch you go through something like this, knowing I’m thousands of miles away if ever something happened. Baby I’m terrified.
My girlfriend at the time had bulimia nervosa. I posted this two days after she told me she was going on the water diet. I couldn’t stop worrying till I cried. It hurt me. We were on skype one day and she ate breakfast for me, she knew well enough it’d make me happy. She never wanted to hurt me. This happened only a month ago. Not long after, I ended up on the other side. I know what it’s like to be utterly scared watching someone you love go through this. I also now know what it’s like to not be able to stop once you’ve stepped through the other side of the door. I understand both worlds.
This is why I’m not telling anybody anymore. I don’t want to hurt the people I care most about.
Rather fucked up, isn’t it?
So, I give up.
This was the fourth time I came to my parents for help because I’m scared that I’m developing an eating disorder. They think it’s nothing, that I’ll grow out of it. They think that I should just eat and it’ll solve everything. They don’t understand. I’m done trying, I’m not going to waste my breath. But at the same time, I’m glad. This means if ever I do have one I’m most likely going to get sent for help and therapy and all this shit. I don’t want that and besides, I don’t wanna have to put my parents to pay for all that. And I still haven’t reached my ultimate goal weight. I DON’T FUCKING KNOW. Okay. I’m fucking lost. I’m in a constant battle with myself. I’ll be fine. Sure I will. I can take care of myself.
