tw/ mentions of eating disorders, read at your own discretion.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
POETS ARE ANYTHING BUT ACCURATE .
While describing pain, they talk about the beauty in it, describing in beautiful metaphors how the mind always heals, the person coming out stronger in the end. They talk about how, in the end, the sun always shines, the sky is always blue, the world keeps spinning as it had been for millions of years before. As if it would have stopped if you were gone.
Though that couldn't be further from the truth. Pain is ugly. Pain is disgusting. Pain is ripping your hair out in fits of despair, crying your eyes out until you vomit because your body can only take so much. It is not eating for days on end, not caring what happens to the earthly vessel of your already broken soul- pain is anything but beautiful. And the poets are always wrong.
♱
"IT'S NOT SIMPLE TO SAY...that most days, I don't recognize me..." she sang softly, resting her head on the marble tiles of her bathroom wall.
"She is hard on herself... she is broken but won't ask for help...."
Her eyes watered as she sang the next few lines. She considered the song an accurate description of her life, accompanying her in her darkest moments.
"...The life that's inside her, growing stronger each day... 'til it finally reminds her to fight... just a little... to bring back the fire in her eyes..."
Tears streaming down her face, she cried for the girl that had died many years ago, when the world reared its ugly head, seemingly crushing her under the sole of its shoe.
"That's been gone... but used to be mine..." her voice was almost a whisper at this point.
She missed the carefree moments in her life. Being a little girl, she had no worries, although later on life forced her to grow up a bit too fast.
She didn't know who she was anymore. For so many years she strived to be perfect, perfection becoming her obsession in the end.
She craved the control she felt she had over her body, because it took her mind away from other things.
Every evening, she stared at the person in the mirror that now seemed alien to her. She had put on weight in the past few months. The face staring back at her was rounder. Her figure seemed fuller. The gap between her thighs was smaller, thin stretch marks adorning her otherwise flawless pale skin. Her collarbones weren't as prominent as they used to be.
Anna Miller hated the way she looked.
She hated herself.
As hard as she tried to stay afloat, the demons of her past could swim better than she did, pulling her under the waves of intense self hatred.
Who are you? She would think, her eyes glued to the reflection.
She tried to tell herself she was getting better, that her life had meaning now. She knew she couldn't go back to her old ways- she wouldn't let herself. But all she could think of was the stranger she saw in the mirror and how much she hated her.
Was she ever really happy? Or was it just an illusion created by her affection deprived mind?
She didn't know.
And she didn't want to know.
She got up, wiping the tears away, drained her bathtub and got out, as if nothing ever happened.
She was good at that.
So, here's a bit of Anna's backstory. Our girl is a college student, trying to put the past behind her and make the best out of the life she was given and follow her dreams, even though life put quite a few obstacles in her way. There will be hints about her past in the upcoming chapters, pay attention 😉
The song used in the chapter is "She used to be mine" from Waitress.
