anyway the other day i went camping with four friends and had a much needed break from my routine. it was supposed to be their 'guys only' camping trip but they all said i should go because i'm "practically a guy with but with boobs," which i guess is nice of them. after so many years of isolating myself, i'm always amazed at the connections i feel to people around me. it's funny how we all talk and laugh and can pretty much say anything, but the best moments are the ones where we're all driving in the car with the radio turned up and we're not saying anything. or where we're all sharing cinnamon-fried ice cream with strawberries and whipped cream at el encanto and i'm not caring about the calories because why should i?
i wish i could have that mentality when it's just me and myself, with nobody else to tell me it's okay. when i'm with my friends i get so swept up in the excitement that i can allow myself to indulge without guilt, but when i'm alone all i can see are the imperfections that my mind wants to starve away. march 15th marked exactly 2 years since the day i came home from mirasol, and i still struggle, but i know that i'll struggle for the rest of my life. it won't always be so hard, but the urge will always be there. the difference now is that i'm fighting it, and i try to remember that.