April 5th.

Yesterday I was pretty sure that I was going to have to deal with the end of my relationship.
Upsetting, yes - it's a new relationship. The beginning stages where we're just realizing it's potential, and learning and growing together.
The monumental thing, though, is that while I cried, I also realized that hurting myself because of it wasn't going to get me anywhere.
I woke up with the feeling of hatred. I wanted to stop eating and just lie there motionless in my bed until I heard from him again.
But I didn't.
I hauled my ass out of bed, and went on with my day. And even when he finally called me and that didn't go so well I kept trucking on.
I think the thing that I had to keep reminding myself was that even if he was gone, I'd still have myself. In fact, the only thing I'll only always have is myself. It sounds silly, but it's so true.
It turns out that I didn't get broken up with.
But the fact that I was able to keep my life going is an amazing feat for someone in remission for an eating disorder.
It gives me hope that I could actually be standing on my own two feet. Even though Thomas was the one who believed in me first, and supported me through everything - all of it - I'm okay. I'm okay to do this on my own.
I don't need him - even if it is nice to have him around. He's here now because I want him to be, and he wants to be, and that is the greatest reassurance of them all.