(I have plans to write things relevant and recent. I have notes on my desk and thoughts in my head. I jotted something down in my journal the other day, aided by my decision to toss the diary I’d started but couldn’t love. Happiness is a spiral binding, at least when it comes to me and my notebooks.
Eating disorders are hell. Recovery is also hell; it takes a long time before you start to believe it might be worth it. It took a long time for me to believe it might be worth it. I’m mostly sold, though I still love decreasing flesh and prominent bones a little too much. The difference is that yesterday, upon noticing my gaunt face, I added a bowl of sherbet to dinner instead of thirty minutes on the treadmill.
Though there was some buyer’s remorse this morning.
It’s interesting, navigating grief and stress in a mostly sober fashion. I’m pretty sure I don’t like it.)
i see you (february 15, 2017) i see you. i can see it in your face, in the muscles that line your jaw, the way your teeth sit loosely in your gums. i can see it in your eyes, in that odd combination of emptiness and pain. i see it in the expression that crosses your face when you think nobody’s watching. i don’t need to see jutting collarbones or the tendons tracing your forearms. i knew before i saw your ribs pushing at your skin, before light shone through that thigh gap. like speaks to like, and we are of a type, you and i. i see you, even as we are both unseen.