#thighgap (My Dark Library Book 2)

by Chandler Morrison

She’s thin and beautiful, but not as thin and beautiful as I am, so I don’t hate her.

Seeing other people eating always arouses juxtaposed sensations of disgust and superiority within me.

Sixth grade was when my classmates—friend and foe alike—began to say things.

It was nothing more than one more lie to hide the ugly truth—that skinny is Good and fat is Evil.

Something about this girl’s ethereal flawlessness, her perfect proportions, her symmetry—it’s too much. It makes me not enough, and in such a way that I’m suddenly, profoundly certain I’ll never be enough.

“Beauty is the only commodity that matters,”

You never realize how fragile you are until you’re already in pieces.

I hate the sound of my footsteps. They indicate my presence in the world. I want to be a thing without mass, devoid of matter, drained of all substance. I want to become nothing.

I’ve come not only to accept my lack of reflection but appreciate it. I’ve always wanted to disappear.