Psyke.org

Darcy

I Could Have Been Beautiful

Copyright, Darcy

You know, I could have been fucking beautiful. Gorgeous. I could have been the girl that guys chased, that girls hated.

But I fucked it up, I fucked it all up.

I’m covered in scars. My stomach is perpetually bloated and my metabolism slowed thanks to eating disorders. My health is bombarded with infections and viruses that I’m too weak too fight off.

And I sit here. A blade, freshly pryed from its orange plastic casing, is next to me. I’m alone in my white cinderblock dorm room. But i’m not cutting.

I have reasons that I shouldn’t, reasons that I should. They go back and forth in my head, the pros, the cons, the maybes, the why nots. Come on, it’s been so long… I miss it.

But man, what gets me… I could have been beautiful. And I ruined it. I could have been fucking beautiful and just because I was a fucked up kid I threw it all away. When you’re in the midst of your pain and drama you don’t envision the future, the body that neither forgives nor forgets.

My kidneys hurt from an infection that seems to be getting worse instead of better. Isn’t that pain enough? I’m going to fail out of school. Won’t that be a big enough disappointment? Why should I add to it? Do I deserve this?

I should be sleeping but these racing thought dance in my head. Will I give in, weaken, make myself even uglier?

Ugly! To think what a pretty little girl I was. I would have grown up lovely if only I hadn’t spoiled it. I would have been fucking beautiful. And that’s what pisses me off. I could have been beautiful.

 

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