she can never go back and make some of the details pretty, all she can do is make the whole beautiful.

So in case you haven't heard, I've got some issues. I've got scars, scabs, bullet holes, stab wounds, puncture marks, track marks, a broken smile and a gaping black hole of pain. So no, I'm not perfect. Never was, never will be. But you know what? I don't give a flying high fuck.

So you want to know why? Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway.

 I realized, that me, and only me, should be at the top. I may still be climbing my way up from the underground, but don't you worry or doubt me. Cause I'll fucking make it up there. I'll be so high up there that every bitch, ex, loser, and scumbag that ever crossed me will be scared. And those who wrote me off, well, they'll be begging to be my friend. Good, let them beg. But they'll be begging for a lifetime because to me, loyalty, honestly, dedication and real love is key for me. If you didn't have it when I was at my lowest, you won't have it when I'm at the top. Sure, they'll pretend, but it's too late. I've already seen their true, ugly colours. And those who did have my back? The ones that were there for me when I was completely broken, ugly, damaged. Well I know they'll still be in my life, because they deserve to be.

Now, before you think I'm ranting and raving for no reason other than the fact that I'm into myself (haaa, yeah right, have you met anyone with bulimia who loves themselves?), let me tell you how I came to the above realization:

So you all know my ex. The love of my life, turned friend. If a friend is what you want to call it. He has a new "girlfriend" named Tiffany. Cheesy, skank-ass name. So after months of being terrified to check all social media, I finally grew the balls to check. I was so worried that I'd have a mean message from him, or worse, no messages at all. But there were some. They told me that he still loved me, that he hadn't loved anyone else since, and that he wasn't single, but that things were complicated. Anyway, long story short, we decided we'd talk, maybe be friends. Fast forward a bit, bitchany finds out that we're talking and decides to send me a message, demanding I no longer contact him. I didn't reply, why would I give her the satisfaction? But upon reviewing her message, I decided, "Wow, he could have done sooo much better." And I mean, no offence to this girl, it's not her fault she looks like a horse and acts like she's six. Well, sort of. The least he could have done was show some respect and throw a dime piece in my face. Then I'd understand. Then it got me thinking, why was I so upset? She's a downgrade, and he left me when I needed him most. I should only care about the people who have been there from the start, from the bottom, up. 

So I may be being a little nasty, and I may seem arrogant. But I see it differently. I see that they've been nailing it in my head at rehab, at every meeting, at every group that I am worth it, and maybe for the first time, I finally believe it. I finally realize that I am worth every bit of recovery, respect, love, understanding, compassion, etc. And after all the hard work I've accomplished getting and staying sober, I deserve to have a day  and a blog post where I rant in about how awesome I am.

Fuck, I deserve more than just a day. But I guess for tomorrow, I'll try to tone it down a bit. Maybe.

And even though I can't go back in time and fix everything and make it all pretty, I can move forward, learn to love myself and know that my whole is still beautiful. Imperfections and all.