What is love?...

The question so often arises, yet no one can truly answer it in a "proper" way. Love is merely different to everyone. It effects each individual in an original and special way, so no one can truly answer that question "correctly". But I am here right now, to share my version of the feeling. And I know what you are all thinking "How the fuck can a fifteen year old give an opinion on love?". Well, it may seem crazy, but I have had my share of love already - despite my young age.

So today, I will share with you, how I would answer this popular question...

What is love? Love, to me, is so many things. And I'm talking about the special kind obviously - the kind of love you don't feel for your friends, or family members.

Love is when you think about that special person, and feel so overwhelmed with happiness and joy, and obviously love for them, that you can't even bear it. You just want to shout it right there, right then, that you love said person so incredibly much. And when they're not there with you, you want to text them, call them, something just to remind them of how much you truly love them.

Love is when you think of the future with the person you're in love with, and get excited, and ridiculously ready to just skip ahead, and start it. You don't get nervous, or scared, or anxious. You're just ready - ready for the day that marks the rest of your lives' together - to get to hold each other in bed each night, wake up next to the one you love each morning, and see their lovely face, comfort each other when you're at your worst, listen and understand each other, grow old together.

Love is when you realise kids aren't so bad after all - that you actually kind of want a couple of the little ankle biters yourself now, because it just feels so right, and so wonderful to think about.

Love is when everything becomes more enjoyable again - when you suddenly have a thirst for life, and a hunger for the days to come - when you become happier, and an overall better person, if you are in love with the right one.

Love is talking for hours about something completely silly, and not caring because you're just so happy to be with them - doing anything, or nothing at all, it doesn't matter. When you're with the one you love, it just doesn't matter what happens, or what you do. Because it simply isn't important.

Love is worrying about the other person when you're not with them, because you are terrified of losing them. Love is when you'd lay down your life for the other person, and not have a single doubt in mind.

Love is so many things, and I could sit here for hours listing my answer to this common question. All I know is, is that no matter if you are in your teens, or your twenties, or your thirties, forties, fifties, and so on - love is possible. Finding the one you want to be with for the rest of your life is possible, no matter if you are 16 or 60, it is real, and it is love. Now I won't say that all teenagers are really in love when they think they are, but some are. It is pretty rare, but it happens, and I know this.

So say what you may. I know I am young, I know I have not experienced quite a lot yet, but I have experienced this. And it is a feeling that I know won't go away, because I know my heart.


"If I lived for a million years, with illnesses coming and going, tragedy and pain, it would not matter. As long as I lived that million years, with you."

Trapped in hell with a beautiful illusion...

All I can say at this very moment, is...

Fighting Anna is not easy at all.

Consuming me like an unstoppable black hole, you,...have become my life

I find myself saying this a lot, but I really am sorry for the lack of updates. It's just, when I have stuff to write about, it's usually never good, and I have so much to say...it's just annoying. But I promise, I'll try and update you guys more often. Really.

Anyway, today I thought I'd write about anorexia. My mum is convinced I don't have it. Even though she had thought I did before, she says she doesn't now. Well, I agreed. But have now found my mind changing to disagreement. Why? Because I decided to really find out, and research it this morning. I looked at symptoms, signs, all of that. And guess what? I've got every bit of them. There was even something on the list that was so shocking, but explained so fucking much. I mean, god.

Okay, first, the shocking thing I found on the list that explains so much. I circled it on the list below:


I had no way of understanding my wish to cook for people all the time - find nice recipes and make them. Feed people. Look through cooking magazines/visit cooking sites. This explains so much, and I think it's so weird how it's tied to anorexia. How, it seems like, everything I do now, is tied to anorexia. I have every symptom/sign on that list. Which has now forced me to believe I am anorexic. I didn't think so before reading these, but now...I mean, if I wasn't anorexic, I wouldn't have all the symptoms.

I am eating three meals, but they are small. I can control my breakfast and lunch, so I try to eat as little as possible because I have no idea how much food I'll have to eat at night. I stay hungry - which to me, is fantastic. There have only been two nights that I ate so much I wasn't hungry anymore. And I was miserable. I cried, my stomach hurt...it was a feeling I never want again.

I am also still over-exercising. I look in the mirror so many times a day, that I can't even count anymore, and you know what I always see? Fat. Just fat. All the time. I'm never thin enough, I always see fat, and ugly. You can see my ribs, chest bones, collar bones, hip bones - you can feel all them, and you can feel my bum bone if I sit on your lap. I get told I look skeletal, and anorexic, and terrible, and too thin...yet all I see is fat. And how I'd look so much better if I ate a little less. But not being in control of dinner completely hinges that. So I simply do as much as I can before dinner time. Then I exercise dinner off afterwards. It's the only way I'll feel satisfied enough. Last night I went to bed hungry, and happy. I was ecstatic. I lay in bed at night and stroke my hip bones, feel my chest bones...I'm so warped. I know. But I just...I don't know.

All day today I've been having flash backs from when I was like 11, and how terrified I was of becoming anorexic then...and how that, one time, I looked in the mirror, and saw a morbidly obese me staring back.And then I cried. And also how I was so terrified, that I couldn't eat for a few days. I had practically stopped eating because I was so worried I'd become anorexic, that I felt sick, and couldn't eat! God. I have literally struggled with my weight and appearance ever since I was like, 9 years old. It just didn't get to this point until 14...which, thank god it didn't start any sooner.

Then I think about how disappointed my dad would be in me right now...every time I exercise, every time I feel that burn in my chest, a sign I can't take what I am doing, yet I still keep on going...I know he'd have had a fit seeing me looking like this if he was still here. He thought I was too thin before he died, and I was eating normally then. So imagine what he'd say now...he'd get pissed off, and probably blame my mum - which this is certainly not her fault.

I don't know, it's all just so hard. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm very happy at the moment, really, I am. It's just...tiring sometimes, ya know? It consumes my thoughts, my body, my day...anorexia has taken over me, and I love it. I allow it. I welcome it. It makes me happy to go to bed hungry, and to eat, then walk away knowing I'm still hungry. It also makes me happy to exercise so hard that I end up shaking afterwards, then knowing I'm just going to do more later. It fills me with joy to feel that burn in my legs when I walk up the stairs - that burn that makes me feel as if I will collapse right then and there. It lets me know that I am doing things right. Well, right in my distorted view of what's right. Others' would say it's sick, and wrong. I started worrying when I couldn't feel that burn anymore though. When I wasn't as in pain as I used to be when working out hard.

Ugh, I don't know. I'm so happy, but there is no doubt about it. No denying it. No covering it up anymore, because people can see me. I am anorexic, and it is my life. It has consumed me, and I'm happy about that. That sounds so wrong, but god it feels so right.