Rejection hurts

It’s insane, and it’s all my fault.
I rarely felt so rejected in my life. And Steve doesn’t even know he rejected me so badly.

Because today, at the canteen, when he commented on the skinny bitch that walked by, I decided I’d look just as beautiful tonight. So I wore my fave dress, a spaghetti strap thing that never failed me, and even paid better attention while wearing my make up.
And I did look good. I know I did, because men stared at me, and even complimented me, while I was walking to meet a friend for drinks. I should have met Steve later. After all, he’s leaving tomorrow, and I wanted to hang out with him just a little. After all, he sent 4 emails apologizing.

And I should know that he didn’t come out because he only got home at eleven PM from work, and he was ired, and we have to wake up at 6.
Instead:
- I feel awfully rejected and hate myself for having dressed up like that
- I can’t stop thinking, if I was 15-20lbs lighter, he wouldn’t reject me this way
- Most important, I binged on chips like a starved mad ape.
And then I got home on the edge of tears, I didn’t cry, wiped away my make up instead, set the alarm at 6 in order to hit the gym, and swore I’ll never ever eat again.
And we all know I’m bound to fail this promise.

At least I look decent today. Oh, and 122.8lbs this morning.

PS: Steve left for the airport 2 hours ago. He already called me four times. Men.