I've really changed this summer. Starting, obviously, on April 5th (the night the fire happened). I sit here pondering my recklessness, and find that I really can't even look myself in the eye. I detest my actions at times, and yet I feel this growing appreciation for my unique character.
I've been busy, which is why blogging has fallen to the wayside. I'm popular, honestly. And somewhat of a guy magnet. I am also selfish, foolish, and shy. I am a tease. I've kissed three boys in three days. Isn't that funny? One of them was my ex-bf John. We went swimming with his son and just had a simple, innocent kiss when he dropped me off at home. The next was my *first kiss* with A. It was pretty great, actually. Electric, if you will! He is the shorty with the killer blue eyes. We might be dating, but I'm not sure, because.... last night I made out hardcore with N. (my best friend's brother). We were drunk. We could have had sex (I slept in his bed) but I said no (because I really care for A.) and it was fairly fun, but there really are no sparks between us. With N. ... it's just, easy. To come on to him. To make him think I want him. To tease him. We probably won't speak for awhile.
Well, now that you think I'm a slut I suppose I'll change the topic. I love restricting. I love puking up alcohol every hour or so when I'm drinking with friends, it keeps the bloat down and I can handle myself way better. Puking is so calming, yet so, so, fucking gross. The other night I was at my friend's house and I kept excusing myself to use the bathroom; I would jam a few fingers down my throat and puke up wine. It burned (obviously) and I was pale, but I just ... love it. I love the control. I love thinking that maybe they are wondering about me. I love being able to do something that others might think about but never dare to do.
I am in over my head.