The parts you leave behind

Chapter 47*

Blair's POV

When we look at ourselves we have an imagine in our minds about what we want, or what we expect to be like. Look like. We just have a lot of expectations for ourselves. And even if nobody admits it, it's true, I mean we all have a goal that we work towards everyday. The want is sometimes so much that it starts to become a need, I mean everything that starts to come to mind becomes it.

But you have to remember the key word: Want

Want is to desire or possession to wish for something so bad that it consumes you. It's something we crave to have engraved in our mind and skin, and to become realistic even when your expectations are the furthest thing from the word. But I guess they're all just words.

I used to really love my skin. My face was clear and tan, and I always looked like I was glowing even when I felt like the very opposite. But as I stare into the eye bags of my hollow and sorrowful green eyes, that lie on my pale face, I wince. Or maybe I do because of how my collar bones stick out despite the weight going to my stomach, because it has to. My hair is thin and almost feels dead, and as I stare back at the lifeless figure in the mirror, I remember that this isn't what I wanted.

This is the very opposite of my want, of my new need.

I'm looking at myself in the mirror at the cancer patient center as I change back into my regular clothes, but I'm just staring at my naked body in the mirror with an expression I don't understand. Shame? Disgust? Sadness? Who knows.

I usually change in the room with Hayden seeing as he's seen me naked countless of times before, but I couldn't bring myself to let him see me like this. I look dead already. The only knowing place that life lives is in my stomach, that always makes tears come on because I feel like I'm malnourishing her. She shouldn't be held in a body that is slow decaying, and becoming nothing but a pile of lifeless skin and bones.

As times been going on I've been noticing little things, and I know it's meant to come some time soon I mean I've known I've been sick for almost a year now. But I guess it's inevitable, and I only stare into my dull eyes for a moment more before I look away and begin to put on my clothes, unable to look at myself anymore.

Because I'm not completely sure I know who I am anymore.

When I enter back in the room, I immediately make eye contact with him despite what I wanted to do. I think he sees what's going through my mind because a frown makes it's way onto his lips while he stares at me until I force myself to look away then sit on the patient seating.

"What's wrong?"

The question rings through the room like an echo, and it's the same I've been asking myself for a long time now I think.

"Nothing. Just a little tired." I shrug a single shoulder.

That's always the same excuse. Although it's not a lie, I am tired of a lot of things. Physically and emotionally. "Did your scans go okay?"

"They went fine." I mutter.

He hums in response as he scans over me and the gaze makes me want to hide in a ball instead of how it usually feels. "You look very beautiful today. I like the new pants."

"Well when you can't fit into any of your skinny jeans, or low rise you have no choice than to get a new wardrobe." I inform him with a small grin because these yoga pants are actually pretty comfortable.