Monday, 18 April 2011


There are people in the world who just go out when they feel like going out, even if they're feeling fat. They have people over when they feel like having people over; they serve and eat dessert, and it doesn't make them cry in the bathroom at work throughout the next day. If a stranger drops by unexpectedly it doesn't throw their day into turmoil because they're afraid that person secretly thinks they're fat.

I used to be one of those people, but it was so long ago I don't remember for sure. This is what I am now. My body swells like a balloon, and only my spirit gets smaller and more emaciated, rattling around in its empty house, frightened by the space around it.

I notice a lady in the store buying non-diet groceries. She's pretty and cheerful and relaxed. I imagine her going home, opening the food she's bought, and eating it with that same serene brightness in her face, never thinking to run and kneel in front of the toilet like a devoted disciple bowed in penance for her sins. Maybe she has none.

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