The shelves when they're broken...I suppose things have been getting better lately. I know I say that alot, and usually it's not true. But now....well, I hope it's not just a defense mechanism.
Talked a lot last night. It was pretty painful, but I needed to talk it out, ya know? Like cleaning out a wound. Kira told me...well, things I care not to repeat. It made me really fucking hate myself for not being there for him at that time. It made me really fucking hate him, too, for not waiting for me to..."heal" him I guess. I couldn't stop crying, I just really found it hard to believe it wasn't a dream, that he was really there and he was really okay. I punched him a few times, I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. But's it a pain I have to deal with, accept, and heal.
He was also asking question about how it felt to be anorexic, why I did it. He's asked before, and it was more or less the same answer. The questions that Kira asked were easy, and I kinda felt wrong answering in such a monotonic manner. But then he asked a question I had never even considered; he asked me what was so intoxicateing about it. And for the life of me, I couldn't answer. I tried and I tried, but I couldn't figure out exactly WHY. I thought I had all of the answers about "my" disease, I thought I knew every angle that existed. I know part of it was that I wanted to die, but somehow I thought I'd have a "loophole" of sorts in dying like that, that it wouldn't be directly "my fault". But that couldn't have been it, I'm not that patient. I just...I guess I still have a lot to figure out about all that, a lot of cobwebbed corners that I need to clean. At least....at least I know I'm not alone now. And if something bad happens...I know Kira will be there to stop it.
I'll figure it all out, I know I will...The shelves when they're broken...things will be truely perfect soon, I know it. By every single god that could of ever existed, I know it.