I binged on fucking Reese's cups today. I ate six. 780 fucking calories and 45 fucking grams of fat.
He was quiet today. He didn't want to seem to talk to me.
He was almost twenty minutes late.
We were eating dinner. My roommate joined us. She flirted with him.
I think he flirted back. My roommate joked about my dying gradmother.
They both commented on my weight.
I just want to run back to the way things used to be.
Before everything went wrong.
I'm so fucking tired.
8:34 pm, EST.
"Hey, listen. I'm really sorry about dinner. I know you wanted it to be just us."
"Come downstairs if you can."
I went, and there he was, just getting back from the grocer's. His long, curly hair was in a ponytail, with the bits of hair that had fallen out around his face. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. I always forget how handsome he is.
He had two bags. He reached inside the bag in his left hand, and pulled out a jar of pickles.
"Your favorite kind."
"That they are." I was smiling. I reached for them.
"Hang on there, mon petite fille."
He twisted off the top, something I always have trouble with.
"There you go. And, I'm sorry."
He held me close and kissed the top of my head. We said goodnight, and went our own ways.
And as for the clouds, just let them roll away.
Love you always.