God knows why...

God knows why
but I feel oddly positive.
Slightly manic, or buzzing, even.
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I binged and purged for breakfast.
I don't even remember what I ate.
Crap. Obviously.
Then I ate: an apple, a salad and 9 provita and cocoa soymilk.
I don't intend to eat again today.
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All I know is what the internet tells me.
It tells me, most sweetly, that in order to lose 1kg a week
I need to reduce my daily caloric intake by 1000 kcals.
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That is rather a lot
considering that I am a sedentary creature
(who therefore should not be eating all that much every day anyway).
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But I think that if I eat 700 cals a day
(every day for as long as is conceivable; infinity, I suppose)
I should lose said 1 kg per week.
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If I do so:
It should take me about 3 months to reach my goal.
That's not all that long.
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But then it is also a dreadfully long time
when one factors in the facts that I am;
dealing with my depression,
dealing with my bulimia,
dealing with my insomnia,
dealing with my infatuation with that asshole boy,
and dealing with my imminent failure at law school and life in general.
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But it would also mean that I would, or could, reach my goal by December.
That's my 24th birthday,
and Gaga,
and exams,
Still:
Wouldn't that be amazing.
Fantastic.
Wonderful.
It would be: Amazing, fantastic and wonderful!
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To be beautiful at long, long last.
It is what I what I want most in the world.
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As a somewhat aside:
If you're wondering why I'm so frothingly mad with that stupid STUPID boy.
I will tell you.
Although, naturally, I'm just talking to myself here :)
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Well,
we have had conversations, he and I, of course,
pre all that sex nonsense.
Conversations in which we spoke about his move to this city to attend university,
about making friends far from home because his classmates were in another part of the country.
Conversations all pre-supposed on his attending highschool half-way across the country.
"Where did you go to highschool?"
Response: "XYZ in XYZ"
LIES.
He lied.
He didn't, technically and conveniently, lie point-blank and outright.
But he lied over and over again by omission and circumvention of the truth.
Elaborately so.
He did not graduate from XYZ. Who knows how long, or if (the horror) he did attend XYZ.
In fact he graduated not more than two suburbs away from where I live,
in this city,
from the same school he attended with... yip... you guessed it; his ex-girlfriend of four years.
A girl he made it seem as though he met at university.
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One does not lie about stupid things,
things which lead to deeper conversations,
to one's friends or people one is interested in being friends with.
One does not fail to correct false assumptions when they lead to deeper conversations
which then turn one's life history into a historical fiction!
You say; "No, well, actually..."
One does not, in general, lie about where you attend school.
It is a stupid thing to lie about.
I mean: Why?!
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And to think I tried to maintain my dignity
by claiming that we were ever, or could ever, be friends
and that this 'friendship' somehow surpassed
and, I wish, erased
our brief sexual encounter.
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There is, it would seem, something wrong with that boy.
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What is true?
What is a lie?
Who knows?
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But I am angry.
Not by the content of the lie, it's so silly, but by the lying
and by what the lying means about what he thinks of me.
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And, as my friend explained to me, there is nothing I can do with my feelings.
He wouldn't be sorry that he lied about trivial shit and then let me assume it was true.
He would be sorry he got caught.
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How can I win in this situation?
How?
I'm petty (and wounded and twisted and bitter) like that.