well hello

well hello

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Resolve.


I'm exhausted. It's not even two, I've been up for hours. I am slowly becoming a morning person. Doesn't mean I love it.
Today was my second day at yoga (it's once a week) and I have to say, I felt huge. We stood on our mats in a large circle around the teacher and she kept inviting us to look around and check out each others posture. I can easily say three quarters of the class were fatter than me. But the remaining skinnier girls (and guys!) were killing me. I wish I could have seen my face from the outside. I am way too shy and self-conscious sometimes and I could feel my face grimace and my body kept trying to cringe and it just wasn't good.
But then we started standing meditation and breathing exercises, and I began to relax and focus on my core instead of my sludgy fat.
Needless to say I haven't ate since I've been back, and of course I want to. I've thought about it. I just am choosing not to eat because of how shitty I felt earlier.

T. and I talked on the phone for awhile last night (I called him, obviously...he wouldn't call me unless someone was holding a gun to his dick) and he told me he is not interested in pursuing anything "romantically" with me.

Fuck.that.

He wants to be friends. Well you know what bloggers? I can't. I have no interest in being only friends. Maybe I want all or nothing. Maybe I am a stubborn bitch. I don't know or care, really.

After we stopped talking in hushed tones about the state of us, our conversation lightened up. We laughed and joked. Then got off the phone and texted for 3 more hours.
But then today after yoga, like I mentioned, I was feeling edgy. As soon as it was done I felt disappointed, dangerously emotional and menstrual and cried in my car a little.
I got home and texted T.
I've deleted it so this is not verbatim:
"I'm too sad and can't do this. I can't just pretend these feelings never existed and be friends and act like that's ok. It hurts. Rejection hurts."

An hour later he just said
"Sarah..."

I will not reply. I deleted his phone number. I am not interested in feeling this pain. I need to forget I even met him. I need to not hate him. But I can't like him. There is no middle ground, unfortunately. There is no compromise here.
I think it is fucked up that him and Tom can hang out and smoke weed and act like everything's gravy. Even though they haven't talked about shit (me) (the new years eve situation). T. has no idea that Tom and I kissed again, but I did tell him last night that Tom told me that he likes me.
Just to hurt him, I suppose. Because I am hurting here, I am taking all the crap from T. about what happened on nye and obviously it takes two to kiss so what the fuck?? T. won't grace me with his presence but will continue to chill with Tom? UGH. Guys. Always siding with each other. Well I wasn't trying to fuck shit up. I just did. It wasn't just me, but everyone is acting like it was.

Sorry if this is confusing with all of the damn "T" names...I just need to drop these two like flies. I am not interested in either.

I keep reading in your blogs about February being a good month to lose ten pounds! Well I absolutely agreee!!!!

I will post more thinspo in preparation of the restriction!

In the meantime,
think thin.
Don't eat any sweets...try fruit. I have apples and oranges and canned peaches in lite syrup (which I drain out).
Exercise! Walk a little. Run in place. Jumping jacks. Plank position. Stretch. Stairs...up and down, up and down.
Ignore that rumble in your stomach, it will go away.
Lots of love to you.







2 comments:

114LBS said...

I was thinking about taking a yoga class at my school too, but I know the whole time I'm going to wonder if people are staring at me =/

glass-skin said...

I felt a lot of different emotions going on in your post as I read, but at the end, I came away with a sense of.. hopefulness. I hope that's how you're feeling, because it seems like you know what you want/need to do despite feeling horrible/mixed up/pissed off/hurt.

Boys suck. Yet we love them. Dammit.