Sometimes I throw up in a plastic bag in room after I’ve eaten because I worry my roommate will hear me in the bathroom. Sometimes I get excited when she isn’t home because then I can purge in peace. Sometimes I ask myself why I ever wanted to live with someone. 

Sometimes my dog sits outside the bathroom door waiting on me to finish. Sometimes he tries to come in the bathroom with me when I purge. Sometimes the look he gets in his eyes breaks my heart. 

Sometimes I wonder how I made to this age. Sometimes I feel like I might have a long life ahead of me. Sometimes I wonder how many people I’ve disappointed. Sometimes I already know the answer. 

Sometimes I think I’m just playing at being sick. Sometimes I want to die. Sometimes the drugs wash over me and make everything alright. Sometimes I’ll do anything to make it not hurt anymore. Sometimes it hurts anyway.

Sometimes I wonder why people even want to be near me. Sometimes I wonder where all my friends have gone. Sometimes I’m lost and alone. Sometimes I’m found.

Sometimes I’m sad. Sometimes I’m angry. Sometimes I’m lonely. Sometimes I’m broken. Sometimes I want to cry but the tears never come. 

Sometimes I think I deserve to be happy. Sometimes I’m certain that I deserve nothing. 


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