I Lie To Myself All the Time
The weather was beautiful, but I kept my jacket on. My makeup needed to be touched up, but I didn’t want a mirror right now.
My phone neglected to ring.
I slid my shoes off and sank into the pavement.
Twists and knots routed in my stomach, begging for attention. Last night, I had stepped upon a scale for the first time in months.
My body had shed three pounds, possibly more. I needed to get high.
I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers. Tomorrow I was turning little ole fifteen. “Everything is alright,” I whispered.