crash&burn.

She's so beautiful, so beautiful and sad that I want to cry. Her legs are bone and no amount of stretching and pressing would get them to touch each other.

It was like a million waves going over me to watch her. Jealously, because I wasn't her. Admiration, because I want to be her. Sadness, because someday I'll be like her. Pride, because I'm like her on the inside.

While we're shopping, I watched her, straining to see what isle she goes in and a few minutes later taking my parents there to see if there's anything low calorie there, but I see her leaving the isle empty-handed.

I lose myself, frantic to find out why, why she's so beautiful, why she's so thin and tragic.

And then I see the shine in her eyes as she heads to leave without anything to take. It's the dull, wet shine of someone who's given up and I realize what I should have. She's anorexic. She's anorexic...

Sometimes, I forget that everyone isn't like this, and when I realize that someone is, it crashes down on my head and crushes my bones. And I'm afraid. So afraid.

Eventually, my parents and I were finished shopping and I couldn't stop thinking about the thin, sad girl. All of the thin, sad girls. I don't want to be part of them, part of their nation of sickness and deadends. I want to be happy, and healthy, and see my life ahead of me as something worthwhile.

But I can't.

Cat and I were talking. She asked if I could have one thing, and one thing only, what it would be. All I said was ' a redo'.

She didn't ask anything about my answer.

Not one thing.

Because I think she understood.

It's funny that for someone I don't see that she's probably who I'm most close to.

I had nightmares about my bones last night. Or, maybe, they weren't nightmares. I don't know.

I was sitting, watching my bare back in the mirror. I was on the floor, and the carpet was white. The mirror was propped against the wall.

I was inflated, but when I breathed in all of my substance was gone, and I could see my ribs and vertebrae and all the things I've always wanted to see.

So why did I wake up so terrified?

If that's what I want, if that what I've wanted for years...?

So, I say I'm not hungry and she makes a giant meal of pasta, garlic bread, and potatoes smothered in cheese. What. the. fuck? She couldn't have said "stuff your face, fatass" more clearly if she had put up a giant neon sign saying 'GORGE'.

Mom barely ate ANY of it. She ate like, a bite of potatoes and said she was full but made sure I ate all my food.

And my dad gave me ice cream and chocolate for 'being good lately'.

Nonononononono. I know they're being good parents and nice and think they're doing the right thing...But can't either of them just realize food isn't going to make me happy? It's going to keep me up until six working out and give me an anxiety attack.

I don't even know why I'm bitching. They're not even doing anything wrong.

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