129 it reads.
a number, a promise, a whispered permission.
euphoria swells in my chest, flooding every nerve, every pulse point.
no word spoken to me, no experience shared with me, no gift placed into my hands could compare to this.
129 it reads.
i am allowed now.
allowed to have a good day, to smile without caution, to speak without weighing every syllable.
allowed to take up space, to deserve the ritual of getting ready—maybe even put on makeup, maybe even feel sexy.
the world drips in color when the scale sings back this number. i have passed the test of worthiness.
129 it reads.
and suddenly, i am more patient.
the things that ache within me dull their edges. the things i long for feel within reach.
a softer voice speaks over the chaos—i can forgive, i can let go, i can be seen.
but then, the hunger shifts. the craving sharpens.
the only thing that would make this better?
125. bright, proud, gleaming.
i close my eyes and imagine the feeling—
the effortless glide of my jeans up my thighs, the fabric slipping over me like a second skin.
the circumference of my waist so microscopic, my denim doesn’t know where to hold on for support.
i salivate at the thought of vanishing. i dream of tasting how skinny feels.
i chase it like a fiend, desperate for just one more fix, one more high, one more hit of approval.
i need it.
135 it reads.
my heart hesitates—skips—plunges.
heat blooms between my ribs, thick and aching, rising to my throat.
a storm unfurls inside my skull, thunderous and unrelenting.
every nerve in my body holds on for dear life, fighting against the pull of the flood.
my mind splits in two.
hana, do not let this steal the high you were riding. it is only six. a mere six. a flicker of a number. you are still light. you are still safe.
hana, you did this. you couldn’t stop, couldn’t resist, couldn’t hold back. this is the consequence. this is what you deserve. live with it. do better. work harder.
i do not know which voice to believe. they are both right.
😘😘😘