So my scale is DEFINITELY broken, I weighed at 62.2kg, but honestly I look like a cow. Like I look pregnant, not even joking. Like one of those malnourished African kids with skinny limbs and a big belly. I don't FEEL bloated though even though Mother Nature has kindly delivered my period (thanks, bitch). I don't get it. But nevertheless, there is literally no chance on this earth that I could weigh that, defo a busted scale - and Belle re: your comment, I think I just treat my scales badly. I kick them and move them a lot, drop things on them. I think that's probably why. (Scale abuse?)
I didn't really eat skinny yesterday either - I had my lunch pasta and more of that for dinner and a beer. With the Italian. We had another mini fight, but fuck it. I'm not gonna lie dudes, I really do like him. He has this look when he's thinking about something, like he's a million miles away and his eyes are just so still.
I'm still a bit jumpy around him, like waiting for him to see my flaws and run a mile. Whether that's my body or myself the way I am. I'm trying to relax. He was being irritating yesterday and I walked out of his flat - yes I know, real mature Piggy. Anyway, I walked out and got straight on a bus. He literally followed me across Clapham and begged me not to go. I felt like such an ass and he made me promise not to walk away from him again. I feel like such an ass. I couldn't believe he followed me, I was really glad that he did. *why am I so stubborn*
Something else dreadful happened yesterday, but I won't go into detail... Nothing I write here could ever do justice to this amazing person. All I will say, RIP beautiful moonchild, Mikki. My heart is broken.
Love & Sadness