When people touch, they technically don't. At the atmoic level, the atoms repel each other. The cold or heat is transfered, giving the illusion of touching, but in reality when it feels as though you're touching, it's impossible.1
Mothers never truly hold their children, father's never hug them to comfort or congratulate. Siblings never hold hands while crossing the street, or helping each other balance on objects they're nto supposed to climb on. Partners never sink into each other's bodies, shell-like and protected, during the nights where they lie together and cuddle up in the love of one another.2
Things never touch. Maybe that's why it's so easy to pretend they are, sometimes - how you can pretend to be affixed to something or someone, like my mother and I. And that's why it's so easy for all these things in life to slip away, because in reality, you weren't ever together to be inseparable.3
Sometimes it's hard to keep a secret. Sometimes people can see it, hear it, smell it, all without you knowing. Other times, it's not because it's obvious. It's because every ounce of you wants to tell. Like when your nose is rimmed with blood, and you've missed your period, but thrown up the blood instead. When you see stars because your blood sugar levels are awry. When your back hurts from that obscene mixture of exercise and porcelain-seat idolising that you swore you'd never revert back to.4
Or the worst; when you've convinced yourself that whatever was there to be hidden once is now gone, and that hope becomes so very real it's an almost tangible treasure... and then it falls apart. Just like that. Because nothing is tangible, is it? Just like today - where my hope built up after a day without purging, and here I am again, brought to my knees by a doughnut an eleven year old pleaded for me to eat.5
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If I could say more, I would. -
Michelle. I love you so very, very much. Please... I don't expect you to listen to me, some silly kid from out of country with issues of his own, but I hope so very much you will.
While I agree with the physics of it, I deny the logic. You're touching me right now, miles away. Physically, that's impossible, but you are a part of me. I don't have to mend my atoms with yours to know that we're connected, nor do I have to be in the same part of the globe. And that's the logic of it! Molecules may push against one anothers polarity, but we're spiritually glued together forever.
That is the most cohesive, unbreakable bond. Not a hug or a pat on the back, but a promise and a kind prayer for your health.
Part of being beautiful is being happy. Darling, are you? Please, honey. Please. <3 you are so very very pretty. But I'm afraid there has become less and less of you to admire. You're withering away and it scares me to hear you talk like this
I. Love. You.
Please get better.
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