(no subject)
Mum just showed me all these photos from my birthday last year.
I looked fucking amazing. I had the most gorgeous body i've ever seen, the deepest tan i've ever had. Beautiful hair.
Yet i look at my diaries and lj from that time, and look back on all my memories. And i was so unhappy.
WHY. Why did i waste the time i actually looked good?
It makes me relise that no matter how skinny, or how big i am- i'll always be unhappy. Weight is NOT my problem.
Louis was in nearly all the photos. The way he used to look at me... he was so in love.
I'm heaps nostalgic right now. i HATE it. I just want it to go away.
I FUCKED UP. I FUCKED UP SOMETHING REALLY GOOD.
Now i have to pay.
I looked fucking amazing. I had the most gorgeous body i've ever seen, the deepest tan i've ever had. Beautiful hair.
Yet i look at my diaries and lj from that time, and look back on all my memories. And i was so unhappy.
WHY. Why did i waste the time i actually looked good?
It makes me relise that no matter how skinny, or how big i am- i'll always be unhappy. Weight is NOT my problem.
Louis was in nearly all the photos. The way he used to look at me... he was so in love.
I'm heaps nostalgic right now. i HATE it. I just want it to go away.
I FUCKED UP. I FUCKED UP SOMETHING REALLY GOOD.
Now i have to pay.