i can play guitar.
i waited and waited and you never came. i sat there alone on the wooden bench that i thought was ours. as the day went on and the leaves gathered around my feet, i told myself that you weren’t coming, but my body wasn’t convinced. i remember it all too well: your eyes shining at me telling me the truth, the way that you always looked at me, even when i didn’t notice, everything just comes back in rushes. its like when you’re at the beach and its high tide, the feeling of wanting to go into the water, knowing the risks, but you keep running towards the dry brittle sand because you’re not ready yet. the thing about disappointment is, you can always expect it, but it doesn’t pierce into you, until it’s too late.
you never fail to disappoint me, so shame on you. But i never fail to believe you, so shame on me.
its a vicious cycle of what my body needs and what everything else about me wants. my body needs food to finish my finals and focus, but my mind & heart wants to be thin, at whatever costs.
you can call me thin, but i know you don’t see what i see every day.
one day, i will wake up and feel comfortable putting on my leggings. ill see the light between my legs shining from behind and i won’t feel the need to hide my thighs. one day, i will be able to see my collar bones without flexing or defining them with bronzer.
one day, i won’t crave disgusting foods in massive quantities or sodas. one day, ill be beautiful.
people say I’m crazy to think I’m fat, but i know that they are all lying. i need to lose weight.
say something I’m getting over you.
the feeling is coming back again: the feeling of needing collar bones and spinal bones, and hip bones and thigh gaps. its all coming back slowly but surely. and the minute i let my guard down, is the second i need it all back. the need to watch what i eat, to look at myself in the mirror or reflections and see this unattractive thing, and then weigh myself, to make sure what i see is true. disgusting. i just want to be skinny & beautiful, why is it so hard?