I often find myself looking in the mirror, as most girls my age do. I look at my thighs that touch. I see how they wobble as I walk. I look at my round stomach, almost endearing in the most sickening way. I see the parts of me I hate, and wish someone would come along with a scissors and chop them off, sling them into a trash can over their shoulder and have that be that. At the same time, I feel my shoulder blades poking into the back of my shirt. I can stick my fingers under my ribs if I try hard enough. I feel my pelvis clinging to my skin. I don't understand how my body can work like this. I don't understand how I can fluctuate so intensely within one form. I know I have an unhealthy relationship with food. I find myself binge eating repeatedly, simply to get the food out of the house. Once I know something is there, I can't stop thinking about it, picturing the flavours melting onto my tongue, my teeth sinking into the textures, washing it all down with enough water t
I look at my body and all I can see are the parts of me you held. I see the parts of my body that you so viciously lusted after. I remember you telling me how you loved me, how I was yours. I laughed, because I knew you didn’t, and I wasn’t. I knew all along you would leave me, for a shinier model, or a model you already had and knew. Occasionally, I think of the time we spent together, and feel a shiver come down my spine. I can’t believe I let you have all of me. I wanted you to take me into your arms and hold me so tight I’d disappear, and I would be yours forever. I wanted nothing more than to disappear into your ether and become something only you knew. I remember feeling my heart break when I saw you with her. The girl I feared you would return to but knew you would. I wondered if she called out your name like I did. I wonder if you held her in your arms, pressing her so close she became part of you. I hope you make her laugh how you made me laugh. I hope she feels the same e