"should we check your weight today?" she shook her head no. she knows she lost a couple of pounds since the accident. more then usual.
"okay then, we will tomorrow." she let out a sigh of defeat.
"do you think you can tell me how you feel right now?"
"no."
"okay, tell me how you feel about me."
"i feel like you're exactly like food."
"and how is that?"
"because! i try my best, and i get nothing back, it just makes me feel even worst, and worst each day. like nothing's happening. making me sick to my stomach until the point i can't stand to be around it."
"you haven't been eating have you?"
"i have."
"why?"
"for nash, for my mom, for you, for that damn unknown number."
"unknown number?"
"not relevant."
"well, if your trying for everyone you love, then why can't you do it for yourself?"
"because i don't love me."
"if you can't love yourself, how do you expect others to?"
she thought for a couple of minutes, silence filling the room. she stared at the clock.
"times up." she left the room.
YOU ARE READING
Cuts.
Short Storyi drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the ke...
