something changes, 1

I want to pinpoint the exact moment things changed.

when I looked outside and realized that it was 5 o'clock and already pitch black, maybe?

when it felt like a bunch of fun things ended and there was nothing to look forward to in a while, maybe?

when I really wanted a close friend, and I thought that person was you, and it turned out it wasn't, maybe?

I went to the bathroom and cried a long time for a reason I didn't even know.
(it wasn't you, or maybe it was.)

I thought if I did spiteful things, I'd feel reassured, but I didn't.
I thought if I did kind things, I'd feel reassured, but I didn't.
I thought if I did things I didn't even care about, I'd at least feel empty, but I didn't.

I wanted to be strong, but the next moment I wanted to be weak again.

I wanted to end things,
(I wanted to start something.)

I wanted to talk about everything vaguely.
(when things are vague they're less real.)

I didn't want to talk to you.
(that probably meant I wanted to talk to you more than anything else in the world.)

was that me

I felt transient, so as a transient person I did things to see how far I could go

I imagined myself as a child. I imagined myself as a cat. I imagined myself as an inanimate object, a piece of those transformers with separable parts, thrown away, recycled.

I wasn't eating very well and I felt wasted. I looked sickly. When someone told me I looked sickly I felt a certain kind of pride in that. I told people it was unintentional, but I wanted to give off the feeling of "don't worry about me" while obviously worrying others. I needed some kind of attention. I was basically a scumbag. I don't think I cared about the feelings of the people around me. I sought advice from friends pretending I wanted to get better, but I didn't.

I didn't want to get better.
I didn't want to get better.
I didn't want to get better.

I wanted love from someone that wasn't going to give it to me,
and I felt so sick and guilty wanting that.
so I started thinking the idea of being hated and having someone beat me up was appealing and romantic, too.

I weighed myself three times a day and when I went to the bathroom, it hurt, but it also felt euphoric.