To my body,
I am sorry for all the times I have resented you. For all the awful thoughts about, how you aren't good enough for a boy to like me. For how you can't compare to any of the beautiful people I see.
I am sorry for filling you with so many cigarettes. For drowning you, bottle after bottle after bottle after bottle for so long. For all the drugs I take, to try and numb my emotional baggage. It has become more than just a bad habit; it has become needed in order for my survival it seems. I am even more sorry that I don't plan on stopping anytime soon, for that reason.
I am sorry for never feeding you enough. For ignoring your screams that you are starving. I have knowingly neglected you, time and time again.
I am sorry for looking in the mirror and only finding flaws. For wanting to physically peel off your skin and be able to start it all over. For always counting and recounting the stretch marks that line you. (and for hating them)
I am sorry for not protecting you when I should. For letting a boy's hand mean more to me than your comfort. For putting you in situations I ultimately, had no control over.
I am sorry for destroying you. And for letting other people destroy you so easily.
I am sorry for killing you over and over again, slowly. And I am so sorry for all the times I have wished for you to stop breathing.
My guilt for not taking care of you has only intensified the longer I continue to undervalue you. Just know that, I am trying. I am trying to hold you together the best I can. And I am going to take care of us. So we can do more than just survive; so we can thrive. I promise you, I will do better for us.
You have been my shelter and home for the last 19 years, and I thank you for being so strong. Thank you for somehow always healing me, physically and mentally. Thank you for keeping me alive after everything I have put you through.
Thank you.