Impulses I must be feeling
God I haven't updated in a while.
The wedding was good. Everything went over well and everyone looked awesome. Well, not everyone. I looked pretty effin shady. I just saw some pictures. Christ, I'm a fucking heffer.
I went over to Jessi's after the reception and cried my eyes out because I looked/look absolutely disgusting and no one talked to me the entire night, and the only person I danced with (for maybe a minute) was one of the completely drunk groomsmen. It wasn't a good night, emotionally, for Missy.
Oh, and then Sunday night, I thought I spotted a hickey on Eric's chest that didn't come from me. So I was wreck all day Monday, and finally broke down and had a panic attack at work. So Jodi sent me home like two hours early. Only to find out it wasn't a hickey. I'm such a loser.
Now I'm sitting here thinking about getting gastric bypass surgery. Yeah. I want to be better. If cutting me open is the only option, then dammit, hand me the knife and I'll do the shit myself.
xoxo.
The wedding was good. Everything went over well and everyone looked awesome. Well, not everyone. I looked pretty effin shady. I just saw some pictures. Christ, I'm a fucking heffer.
I went over to Jessi's after the reception and cried my eyes out because I looked/look absolutely disgusting and no one talked to me the entire night, and the only person I danced with (for maybe a minute) was one of the completely drunk groomsmen. It wasn't a good night, emotionally, for Missy.
Oh, and then Sunday night, I thought I spotted a hickey on Eric's chest that didn't come from me. So I was wreck all day Monday, and finally broke down and had a panic attack at work. So Jodi sent me home like two hours early. Only to find out it wasn't a hickey. I'm such a loser.
Now I'm sitting here thinking about getting gastric bypass surgery. Yeah. I want to be better. If cutting me open is the only option, then dammit, hand me the knife and I'll do the shit myself.
xoxo.