14 days.

fourteen days

didnt get much packed today- not a big deal though. packed my undies if nothing else. and two bras. and 3 pairs of chucks. and a hoodie.

you know, its been almost 3 months since a cut. well, less that that, but pretty close. and well, its catching up with me. i know i dont have a reason to cut, i never did, but now i'm happy and not alone. but sometimes when i am alone [i'm never alone, i'm alone all the time] i can feel the skin on my stomach tight around my fat but i dont give in. i cant anymore. because now cutting myself is like cutting the one i love so fucking much, and thats something i can *not* do. and when i talk about it he gets worried, and thats not good either. anybody else recovering and need someone to tlak about it with? [in a totally non triggering way] because i do.

hm now i must go find something to distract myself with for another hour and a half or so.

tv?

gameboy?

shower?

all sound good to me.

soon.

soon.

soon i will wake up next to nathan.

i.can.not.wait.this.is.happening.

MY FUCKING LIFE IS COMING TOGETHER.

i love you.

Ali said it at 9:20 p.m..