It's been almost a month since I last wrote in this. I guess you can say things have changed. I'm a little more obsessive about losing the weight now, about eating less and all that, but I'm also a little more flippant about it. This is both a good thing and a dangerous thing; it means that I'm not going to be breaking down every two seconds, but it also means that I'm not taking my health seriously anymore (and, clearly, that I don't give a shit about that). There's a new boy who will probably meander into my life within the next week or two. He lives in the next town over and I've only met him twice, but he's conveniently a friend of a very close friend who thought we were too similar not to be set up with each other. I was against the idea so emphatically that I completely missed the part where "awkward IMing" became "staying up past one in the morning talking" and "texting during school". And he's upfront about everything, asking me how I feel about our little arrangement and eventually telling me he likes me ("I mean, LIKE", he said, as if I needed clarification). And we've decided to see how well this talking translates in person. He's me if I were a guy who played a lot of instruments and had more - what's the word? - self-confidence. You know the sort; he's awkward and witty, with a biting sarcasm that almost doesn't fit him and a flirty edge that he usually keeps under wraps. Loves Simon and Garfunkel and Bob Dylan. Vegetarian bordering on not-so-strict vegan. Wants to be a writer one day. He doesn't know about all of this, and maybe that's why I'm so nonchalant about it now. Finally, I've got a clean slate with someone I want a relationship with - Harrison had to "find out" about it and Tom figured it out on his own, but Jimmy... he doesn't even live here. I can sit here and become lighter and lighter and he probably won't even notice, because I'm happy now. Isn't that what really matters?