GOING THROUGH the same torturous and never-ending schedule when briefly away from you, i was finally able to think. and at the time when you hadn't cut me too deep - when you hadn't infected my veins and found your way into my blood - i used to think that you were going to help me. when the kids at school would corner me. when they would tease me. when they would yell out racist and sexist remarks, i was there. and yet for some reason, you were too.
you were the one in the back of my head. the one taunting me whenever i would get the courage to finally stand up on the scale overnight. balling my hands into fists to try and cover the amount of disappointment and pain when i would gaze down to the number being shown. it seemed to decrease whenever you were around. you lessened the pain. after all, it was just a number right? what damage would it make if it somehow decreased just a bit? you promised me that - and i'll give it to you. that statement was the one thing you didn't lie about.
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