Iscariot

I seem to only update this when I have done something so awful I can’t tell anyone. Because obviously, I do have friends, just not friends I want to know the extent to which I am a heinous bitch.

I have to say it before I kill myself. Although that may remain a distinct possibility even after it’s committed to paper. Screen. Whatever.

I cheated on my boyfriend with his best friend.

I have to kill myself now.

He means so much to me and now (understandably, given that I am the daughter of Satan) will never speak to me or see me again. The hardest thing was seeing the look on his face. I’d betrayed him. He doesn’t hate me, because to hate me would mean that he’d have to care about me.

I’m never going to forgive myself! Am going to spend the next week in bed eating crisps, because who cares if I get fat and blotchy? Nobody! Not even me.