I see the same people in the Park every morning, though now, some of who I call the seasonals are out that don’t run in the winter, like the 15 or so stalwarts, me being one along with a tall, beautiful blonde.
Despite her beauty, she’s almost spectral in appearance suffering from a clear case of eyesore anorexia, resembling a charcoal drawing, in flight.
I’ve been accused of being too thin, but if you placed me alongside her, I’d look plump which brings me to a painful childhood memory.
My mother, having major control issues, would overfeed me. If I didn’t comply, I’d be punished. My bedroom was in the attic with no bathroom, so being legitimately sick, would hurl into my wastepaper basket. You can imagine what that smelled like in an hour or two, since I had no way of emptying it, so my mother eventually sniffing it out like a bloodhound with pots, would punish me anyway.
If only it would have been, no supper for you young lady, but no chance.
But back to the blonde whose story I don’t know. I’ve actually seen her on the avenue dressed well, all eyes and cheekbones, legs like a rag doll’s with angles that could easily pierce.
Think E.T., with highlights…
a semicolon in pumps.
I wonder what she sees when she looks in the mirror. I’m betting it’s not what others see, a very sad, sick girl whose perception of herself is distorted and untrue.
Whether denying herself or purging, she’s headed towards Karen Carpenter Way and we know what happened to her.
I wonder if their mothers overfed them too.
I wish I could ask, but alas, one’s gone and the other, well…manners prevail, so praying for her will have to do.
I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves.
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