The comments started this week:
“You are so skinny.”
“She doesn’t eat.”
“You don’t look ok. Are you starving?”
“Aren’t you hungry? You’ve only had coffee all day.”
“It’s like you have ’empty’ tattooed on your forehead.”
I ignore them because I can be thinner still. I have only lost 11lbs since the beginning of June. I have many more to go…the slow fade, the long waste away, the disappearing act. I am emptying myself of disillusion, of sorrow. I am comforted in my distress by the dull ache of starvation and the acute pain of hunger. I need not to need; not to want. I know no other way, but this: no food will fill me with the love I cannot give myself. I, so undeserving, have looked for it in another. It eludes me like my bones which will not show themselves.