“And I know you miss that satisfying bump of bone when your skin was as thin as paper and you could barely sit down on a chair and I know you miss those days when you could sneak tiny scraps and call it a meal without anyone noticing and I know you miss those days when you looked so dead you thought someone would come and resurrect you. But the truth is you seem to have forgotten the days when the bruises lacing your skin disgusted you or the days when your hair was so thin you wondered if you really were becoming beautiful or the days when you were so goddamn cold you could barely touch someone without causing them to flinch and the days when you could barely stand up without watching the world spiral out of your reach and the truth is you seem to have forgotten the fact that no one resurrected you. And I know you are struggling but I cannot seem to keep myself away from looking at how luminous your eyes have become or how rosy your cheeks are or the fact that your skin is so soft you cannot stop from letting pictures be painted on it and I cannot seem to stop admiring the fact that your hair is so healthy that everyone tells you how you smell like flowers in a spring garden and I know you break so often you wonder why you even bother to piece yourself back together, but oh god, piecing yourself back together is much more beautiful than the ghastly thought of you locking your soul up in a mind of negative depictions all over again.”
— Letter to my recovered self - I like the way you look healthy.
