Sometimes I think he is afraid of who I will be when I am "thin"...
He is wary of me when I am doing anything to improve my body, as if I am some sort of secret in the back of the closet wrapped up in glittery paper....do you really want to rip it open to see what's inside or do you just stare at the surface?
Tonight I stood outside the door for hours, glaring at my reflection against the dirty glass.
Thinking, I'm not meant for this.
It rained-
but I just stood there waiting for someone to interpret the blank look on my face, while my hands shook like they were wind-struck and my arms couldn't reach far enough to turn the knob.
I convulsed outside the entrance gripping a key I could never bring myself to hold onto without it crushing into dust.
I waited-
for the glass to clear.
for the cracks in the pavement to mend.
for the rain to stop.
for someone to open the fucking door.
Thinking, maybe I'm just not meant for this...
I think it may be better for me to hold my journey as a secret from the one I trust the most, because it's my turn now.
