Young Writers Society

I am consumed. I am consumed with this pain, longing, mind warping feeling that so many people dismiss as average. Mostly anyone would change any physical aspect of themselves. Mostly everyone is dissatisfied with the way they look.

Intensify this feeling, leave a crater from an eating disorder and pull away the debris and you get me: stuck. It's the feeling of braving a mirror and telling myself I am pretty, I do have a chance, that I'm not an eyesore, but then realizing, those are just meaningless words, words built to create a sort of comfort mechanism in my head.

It's seeing my legs, thinking of nothing but tree trunks, but still lotioning them anyway, thinking one day they could be attractive. It's seeing a round face and thinking of nothing but a saucer, and seeing the lips that are too small nearly smack in the middle. It's seeing eyes that should be pretty, if only they weren't drowning in face fat.

It's hearing grease popping on the stove of dinner and correlating the sound to the brick body under my head. It's thinking in numbers, seeing the calories, mapping up a person's physical statistics, grudgingly calculating my own and finding the residual from their numbers to mine.

It's thinking in jean sizes, dress sizes, inches and rolls of fat. It's comparing body sizes, and praying that someone else might not notice I look like a blimp today. Prom dress shopping? No thanks. Girls day out shopping?

Does that include lunch? If so, I think I'll pass.

I'll stay home and eat what I plan to be a healthier lunch, but end up eating triple times that much anyway. Or in my mind.

It's seeing hair, glossy and shiny on someone else's head. Isn't mine like that too? Shiny?

Try ten times thinner and glossed with wax.

It's seeing a content smile of someone with a man's hand around their shoulder, the satisfaction they share with eachother. It's seeing approval in the eyes of other people. It's seeing myself in a picture, and seeing that

I look good, happy, pretty, content,

airbrushed,

downsized,

features magnified,

perfect nails,

a smile built to last, forever on my beautiful face....

The one I don't have, and can only have with the help of a computer screen, a scapple, heavy make up and liposuction of all the real happiness

that I seem to lose sight of every once in a while.

Dear me, life is worth the trade.