this morning when i wake up i stand on the scales. i don't usually do this because it's against the rules and i'm a good little girl, but for some reason i think i should today. 49.0 stares back at me. it doesn't mean anything. i smile and get off the scale and into the shower, singing.
one to hannah. nought to ed.
on my way home from school i go to my old binge place for the first time since recovery. i sit at my old table and eat my fear food. calmly. slowly. i even enjoy it.
two to hannah.
at home i see a picture of a wintergirl, deep in the ice and snow of dangerland. her scapulae look like wings, her vertebrae like a stack of coins within her hollow flesh. "that's not what beauty is," i say and turn off the computer.
three to me.
last week i ate an egg yolk. this week it was a burger. next week i'll be invincible.
the stone walls i've built around myself are tumbling. i promise i won't cry.