Hi. I was fine all day. I did good, I was not sad at all. Then I talked to him, and I made him mad, and he won't talk to me. I thought it was funny at first, but then it made my stomach feel like it was full of compacted dirt. So I went to the gym, and worked out. It was an alright workout. Last night's workout was amazing. I was pumping ass on the bike, and was sweating, and listening to my CD, and it was super.

I have been going a lot there the last couple weeks. Because I can't live like this anymore. I can't be fat forever. I can't keep living half a life. I can't be on the outskirts of true happiness. I don't know if this is it. I've felt I have made it to this turning point so many times, I now I anticipate it's fall. I can't keep falling. I have to stick to it. I'm doing really well. And I'm doing it for me.

I hate shopping at Lane Bryant. Wait, let me rephrase that. I hate that I can only shop for decent clothes that fit me at Lane Bryant. I hate not fitting into Extra Larges. I hate finding my favorite styles in 14 sizes smaller than I am. I need this to work. I don't need a lot of things, but I need this to work.

Thinking about it, it makes me pissed off that he has the power to make me feel like this. I still give him power to make me sad, to make me question everything from my reality, to my appearance. He doesn't deserve that power. But I guess he wouldn't have it unless I surrendered it. Like that Elenor Roosevelt quote. I think it's about fucking time I had more power over the situation. I wish I was strong enough to let him go. It takes a hell of a lot more strength to do that, than to cling with all of your might. I don't want him to be a thread I hold on to any longer. I wonder who I would be without the image of him in my head.

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