This will be random. Brace yourself.
18 is such an interesting age. Because although I am an "adult", I still live at home, and in fact, will be for the next two years. And by living at home, the fact that I am, in the laws eyes, an "adult", becomes irrelevant.
I was accused of being drunk the other night. Oh Daddy. Hahaha. I wasn't. But, it was still very funny.
Green bonnevilles haunt me. As well as maroon PT cruisers.
Will my memories ever leave me alone? These constant reminders. I will never heal like this.
Older men pursue me. Call me. Attempt to seduce me. 18 is such a lovely number to them.
A friend gave me a dildo for a birthday present. Its huge. And it scares me. And I am certain that it is not anatomically possible. I shall not venture into the world of masturbation.
I'm considering not eating. I've been purging more often recently. I'll hate my body for the rest of my life. No matter what. This is the incurable area in my mind. Curves have become more pronounced as well as the fact that my breasts have grown substantially. I tried to deny it, but when friends comment its pretty much a fact. I used to be rather flat-chested. Now it hurts to run up/down stairs.
I feel like everyone is looking at me.