You and I were nothing but a dark, heart-wrenching story. It wasn’t always love, sometimes we were best friends, and sometimes we simply needed each other to live, to survive. We saw each other for what we really were, these disgusting, disturbed creatures. And oh, how perfect we were. I for you, and you for me. Completely addicted to one another, breathing and consuming to the point of it being grotesque. Yes, we surely were a story made of darkness, but it was wrapped in something fantastically beautiful.
I feel like a huge fake. I don’t even look anorexic. Do you know how embarrassing that is? To be suffering so much and nobody can even see it just by looking at you. And when people do find out, they are secretly shocked because, really, I don’t look anorexic. I know I’m always saying how Anorexia is a mental illness but there’s nothing worse than being diagnosed with it, and not looking like I should.
(via make-yourself-free)
