Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Sometimes I forget

I fell off the bandwagon. Every time I go into the washroom the scale is staring at me, cool and calculated. Even before I step on it, triggering it to power on, I still feel it judging me. One day when I'm perfect I'll weigh so little that when I step on the scale it won't know that I'm even there. One day. I'm going to count every single calorie for a week. It's been so long since I've had that kind of control. And in exactly one week from tomorrow morning I'm going to get on the scale, and hopefully I won't have an allergic reaction to the numbers I see.

I woke up this morning and realised I forgot how badly I need to be perfect. Which is just another part of my imperfection. My weight is an issue, my acne, my teeth, my life...they could all be better. So now I'm going to work harder. Count calories, exercise, take better care of my skin, get white strips, and so on.

One day when I'm perfect the people I love will love me back.

Antique Dress

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