the night dragged on forever... forever... forever... forever...
teragram. teragram. teragram.
opening line and backwards name from a story i read when i was in fifth grade. the things we carry with us,..
"you know... im a big fan."
i paused, hovering over him, my bare breasts inches from his face.
"oh?"
"yeah. i saw you in S.A. the other day... but i was afraid to say anything."
"really? well... jeez, why? never be afraid to talk to me. in real life, im pretty friendly. i promise."
"yeah?"
"yeah."
and so i gently pushed my breasts into his face.
sitting alone in a diner. god this is depressing. same meal ive entertained every night the past week, splayed across the table in front of me: blueberry pancakes with whipped cream, bacon (crispy, of course), small glass of orange juice, large glass of water. my car keys, purse, a kids menu and some illicit crayons lay off to the side.
sitting alone in a diner. three booths in sight, all of them empty. all the tables empty, too. muffled chatter and laughter behind me, off to my left. i entertain fantasies of someone coming to talk to me, someone acknowledging me, saying hello, nodding grunting anything. just me and my waitress.
sitting alone in a diner. shitty family kid elderly friendly music sputtering from speakers overhead... my eardrums are disintigrating in my head. shut it off, shut if off, shut it off! theyre pounding... my head is pounding. i need an aspirin.
packing up, time to go. keys, crayons, kids menu, phone, all swept into my purse. my purse is getting heavier and heavier. i also took a spoon that was not mine. im almost sorry.
sit in my vehicle, idling. the seat warms my back, my butt, my thighs. i almost melt... i want to cry. stare at my hands for a little while... shakey little hands, tiny fingers intertwined. ive shriveled to a size two. something im not sorry about... i always envied those women, those impossible women... shopping with my friends (friends... ha! what a notion! me with friends), curling our lips in derision. size zero? size one? who are these figments who wear these impossible nether sizes? no one is that small.
godammit, im close. so close to that small...
"youre losing weight."
almost every day i hear this, from someone different, someone new.
"oh? i dont think so."
"youve lost weight. youre getting really skinny. have you lost weight?"
"i dont know. i dont own a scale. evil machines."
is my soul shrinking with me?
how tragic is the empty bed, the lonely bed... cold, cold bed. my dreams are worse and my sleep a mess without you here to keep me safe.
please keep me safe.
teragram. teragram. teragram.
opening line and backwards name from a story i read when i was in fifth grade. the things we carry with us,..
"you know... im a big fan."
i paused, hovering over him, my bare breasts inches from his face.
"oh?"
"yeah. i saw you in S.A. the other day... but i was afraid to say anything."
"really? well... jeez, why? never be afraid to talk to me. in real life, im pretty friendly. i promise."
"yeah?"
"yeah."
and so i gently pushed my breasts into his face.
sitting alone in a diner. god this is depressing. same meal ive entertained every night the past week, splayed across the table in front of me: blueberry pancakes with whipped cream, bacon (crispy, of course), small glass of orange juice, large glass of water. my car keys, purse, a kids menu and some illicit crayons lay off to the side.
sitting alone in a diner. three booths in sight, all of them empty. all the tables empty, too. muffled chatter and laughter behind me, off to my left. i entertain fantasies of someone coming to talk to me, someone acknowledging me, saying hello, nodding grunting anything. just me and my waitress.
sitting alone in a diner. shitty family kid elderly friendly music sputtering from speakers overhead... my eardrums are disintigrating in my head. shut it off, shut if off, shut it off! theyre pounding... my head is pounding. i need an aspirin.
packing up, time to go. keys, crayons, kids menu, phone, all swept into my purse. my purse is getting heavier and heavier. i also took a spoon that was not mine. im almost sorry.
sit in my vehicle, idling. the seat warms my back, my butt, my thighs. i almost melt... i want to cry. stare at my hands for a little while... shakey little hands, tiny fingers intertwined. ive shriveled to a size two. something im not sorry about... i always envied those women, those impossible women... shopping with my friends (friends... ha! what a notion! me with friends), curling our lips in derision. size zero? size one? who are these figments who wear these impossible nether sizes? no one is that small.
godammit, im close. so close to that small...
"youre losing weight."
almost every day i hear this, from someone different, someone new.
"oh? i dont think so."
"youve lost weight. youre getting really skinny. have you lost weight?"
"i dont know. i dont own a scale. evil machines."
is my soul shrinking with me?
how tragic is the empty bed, the lonely bed... cold, cold bed. my dreams are worse and my sleep a mess without you here to keep me safe.
please keep me safe.
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As others have said, there are people here who care about you. We're availiable if you ever need someone to talk to.