His name is Blake and he used to model for Calvin Klein. So tell me, how the fuck did I gain 30 pounds?!? Well, want your boyfriend to look like a Calvin Klein model? Make him start working out like crazy and replace all meals with a high nutrient content and make him work out six hours per day. Next step is to introduce him to oxyconton and let him play with heroin every now and then. Nice right? Add some pulled black blonde hair to that chissled body and those hollow cheeks and you have Blake. Blake and I have just had a whirlwind romance. I met him in the middle of the afternoon. I was cutting through his yard to my house, he was chillin on his porch with his friends. He started talking to me, asked me if I was James' girlfriend. -"Whose Scean?" I asked. Blake said he figured I was her, because I was gorgeous and could be mistaken with a stripper. Relieved to hear that I wasn't he asked me out straight away. I went home, dizzy. I was having a party that night for my roomates birthday. Before it even picked up, Blake came by. My knees shook- I pulled him out of the house and back to his house and fucked him. It was amazing, it was incredibly amazing. He begged me to stay the night but I left, went back to my party. He sent me text messages as soon as he woke. I was there by the early afternoon, and we were having sex again. He loved that I wear subtle gold handcuffs round my neck. He choked me during sex and pressed down on my chest so hard he left bruises. But I have diverged. I left Blake. In the afternoon his eyes became glassy in a way that made him look dead. He was dead for most of the day and night. I would pick fights with him to get a rise out of him. I would cry. He would laugh while asking me what was wrong. "Nothing's wrong. Im crazy about you. If your crazy about me than nothing could be wrong." I was with him every day and night for a few weeks. No more. I've moved back home. I have been eating french fries and cheese burgers and drinking beer and eating pizza and chicken wings... I have gained 30 pounds as of yesterday. As of yesterday I weigh 160. I felt hopeless. And hopeless I didn't care what I looked like. Well Im done being hopeless. I am back in Manhattan as of last night. I am getting my act back together.

For just having woken up I have learned a lot. I have learned that I have difficulty saying no and that my intuition on crushes is severely fucked up. Why do I let Luke keep kissing me. Better yet, why did I tell him that it was ok if he came back to my house. I kept telling him I was going to be going straight to sleep but he said he was fine with that so we walked back to my place. Meanwhile Scean... whatever. He said a lot of shit the last time I saw him and now he's acting so fucking weird. He kept telling me how amazing I am and how much he loves me. He was so fucked up, I know thats not how he actually feels sober. I love a lot of people after knocking back 8 shots of tequila too. But his solution to this non problem is to not talk to me?