E is sitting across from the table from me in the dining hall. Art history just got out and we decided to go get some (disgusting high-calorie) food. Being a vegetarian doesn't really help my cause to get my fatass skinny, but apparently I like to stuff my face lately.

E is going on about this asshole who she used to date. "He says he wants to still date, but he keeps blowing me off. I don't get it..." She continued on about him, but I started floating off into space, thinking about purging the grotesque little morsels I was putting into my mouth. Greasy french fries, cereal, steamed vegetables...I want it all gone.

We're going to the gym now. I'll purge it through exercise and again afterwards. I have a special date with the toilet and the treadmill.

I'm staring at the computer screen at work, glancing down to the bottom right corner every now and again to check the clock. All my neighbors are typing feverishly in their cubicles. I rummage mindlessly through my purse, hoping to find my chapstick. Instead I come across my birth control pack. 'Oh. I haven't taken this for a few days...' I finally find my chapstick. The peppermint oil starts to immediately soothe my lips and then I flashback.
---------------------------------------------
"What kind of gum is that?" I asked pointing to a tiny package on the dashboard of his car. We were on our way to dinner.
"Peppermint Trident, of course." He was smirking and looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
"Ew," I say. "Stride is the way to go, specifically spearmint. It lasts forever!"
This time, he turned fully to look at me, one hand still on the steering wheel. He was silent for a few seconds, then said, "You're weird." I smiled widely. "But I'm pretty weird myself," he said.
"And that's why I like you. We make quite the pair." I was laughing to myself and simply enjoying that moment being with him. We got out of the car and just stood for a moment, looking at each other. He took my hand and kissed me slowly in the parking lot. He tasted like peppermint and cigarettes. I used to hate peppermint.

Where Is the Good?

**Prior this week**
I picked up the phone, dialed an old familiar number that I knew by heart. One ring, maybe he'll pick up. Second ring, maybe...Third, fourth. Okay, great. I know he won't. Fifth ring, voicemail. "You've reached Charles. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now, I'm either on another line or unavailable. Leave a message and I'll return your call." *Beep* I contemplate hanging up, but I realized it's recording by now.

"Oh. Hey...it's me, you know, your kid. So, I hadn't heard from you in a while and I was thinking about coming up and visiting, since Grandma has been bugging me. I was thinking sometime after I get out of school, when things aren't so hectic. But we can talk about that later, details. Uh, yeah...so...call me back. Bye." I've been leaving messages for him for a while now, hoping to hear back instead of a few stupid text messages. I just shoved my phone into my pocket, knowing that leaving a message was pointless. God, I was so stupid. He left. He didn't call nearly as much as he should have, didn't write any letters at all when he was overseas, and he sure as hell didn't fight as hard as he should have to get visitation rights. So where does this leave me now? Sad and alone, that's where.
**Fast forward to now**

It's 11pm on a Sunday night. I'm watching late night television wondering why I hadn't heard from you all day. I decide I've waited long enough and send a text: "Hi." Twenty minutes later, I get a response, "Hello." Not the usual greeting, but I'll take it.
"Sorry I haven't texted you at all. I've been in bed all day. Don't feel too good. How was your day?"
"Someone stole my debit card number."
"What?? No waaayyyyy. :("
"Yea."
"Oh no. I'm sorry. How did you find out...."
[Blah blah blah, insert pointless, emotionless conversation here, eventually until he begins to act like a dick. Typical.]
Even after telling myself not to, I reached out to him anyway. I wanted to see how he was doing, how his day went, maybe even talk about something that's bothering me for a change. But even through an electronic, toneless form of communication, I can tell he's angry. I stare at the screen for a few extra seconds hoping he will reply. The backlight goes off. I tap a few buttons to turn it back on, just to make sure I hadn't overlooked anything.

Now I'm here, feeling like shit, like I personally had a hand in ruining his day. I'm sitting here, thinking about how fucking shitty I feel because no one will talk to me, or feels the need to talk to me because I'm an important aspect in their life. And now I have a knot in my chest, I feel like I can't breathe; a knot of self-esteem issues with a complimentary side of daddy issues. How pathetic.

"Is there something wrong?" My mother sat on the couch with me. I replied a soft 'no', keeping my eyes glued to The Hills marathon that was on.
"Do you want me to leave you alone?" I just shrugged my shoulders. She looked a little hurt, like I had just personally attacked her or something. She turned away, watching Heidi Montag argue with Spencer Pratt on the tv screen while eating a late night snack.
"Didn't they get married?"
"Yes."
"And didn't she just get seven surgeries or something?"
I let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes." We sat there a little bit longer in an awkward silence until she finally got up to go to bed.
"I love you," she said. "Goodnight."
"Night," I replied.

I was extremely exhausted and a bit irritated since I hadn't heard from him. I was thinking about Friday. Friday night was a disaster. We ended up going to one of my friend's house and smoking, and there was a lot of people I didn't know. He didn't stay either. I just wanted him to stay with me. We went to Waffle House so he could eat. "I wish we could have just hung out by ourselves." He just slowly nodded in agreement. He'd driven all the way out here, a 45-minute drive, all for nothing. After al this, I think I need alone time. Just for a while.

"Can you drive a stick?" Text messages are really the only form of communication with him.

"I can't now because of my foot," he responds. He's been doing jui jit su and getting his ass kicked on a daily basis.

"I meant just in general."

"Yes. I can." I had asked him because I've been looking at getting a car, one with a manual transmission. The ones I want are sticks, so I needed someone to teach me. I didn't dare ask him though. That may be crossing the line a little. He was supposed to come visit tomorrow, go with me to a party one of my friends from work is having. I can already tell he's going to bail. I suppose he'll just have to wait a little longer then.

"I'm pretty sure this is it, B." I was sitting across the table from her. I had bribed her to run errands with me with sushi.
"What are you talking about?" She said this through a mouthful of raw fish and rice.
"I think I'm going to have sex with him. And I've been wanting to, it's just...we've been dating for four months and I think it's time."
She stopped mid-chew and just looked at me.
"Really." She said this as a statement more than a question. I just nodded. My mouth was full of a shrimp tempura roll and I hate talking with food in my mouth. Eating in general disgusts me, but hey, I haven't been able to control myself lately.
"Well, just don't do what I did," B said. I responded with a questioning look. "Don't have sex in the back of his car. At least have some music going too. Maybe even candles."
"B. No. Candles? No way. I feel like it doesn't have to be this big deal. I mean...it's a big deal because I'm...not experienced in this area. But candles and music? It's not that big of a deal." She just shrugged her shoulders at me. "Whatever. It's your thing, not mine." The waitress came by and asked if we'd like dessert; gelato for both of us. God damn my craving for savory and sweet.

"I think you're right though. With the problems you guys have been having lately...you want to feel close to him so you want to have sex, and he's not going to feel close to you until you have sex. I think this is a fix all, cure all." She made a good point. Our "problems" are me feeling less connected to him, not feeling close. So this was it. This was the solution. And I want to anyway. He should be coming over on Friday, maybe he'll spend the night.

Silver Lining

I suppose the only good thing to come of being an emotional wreck is having no appetite. I hardly eat anymore, and if I do, it's going to be purged. I live off of coffee and cigarettes, a likely combination. It's a pathetic thing to think that I'll receive your adoration, your affection, if I lose those extra ten pounds. Then I will be a fragile, little thing, something that needs care and attention. Is this a cry for help? Maybe. But for now, I'll just enjoy wearing my skinny jeans, chain smoking.

I can hardly breathe anymore.