Skinny

If I were skinnier. Believe me. Things would be different. I don’t try very hard to put myself together now. If I’m going to work I might put on some makeup. Mostly because when I need to fake sick I can just take it off. I don’t know if I should find it insulting that people think my natural face looks like a sick person’s face. But I don’t worry about it. Because I fake sick a lot. I can’t fit into the clothes I want to buy. I’m not sure if I have a sense of style anymore. If something fits I buy it. When I catch myself in a reflecting door I get upset. It’s obvious that I don’t try very hard. I like my hair. It’s really shiny and if I use the right shampoo it is quite manageable. I cut it once. Real short. I looked like a lesbian. Which I guess was kind of nice because I didn’t feel like men were judging me anymore. It was like they knew that I wasn’t for them so they just didn’t see me. If they think I’m for them and I don’t measure up then they’ll tell me. Once a guy in a truck rolled down his window and told me to “lose some weight.” Or maybe he called me a fatass? I don’t remember exactly but it made me cry. I thought I looked nice that day. I hate to have my bubble busted. So I don’t try anymore. I have a nice face. I know it’s pretty. A friend told me once he’d have sex with me if I lost weight because I have such a pretty face. He was very handsome. I was flattered. And hurt. But I’d definitely buy nice things. If I was skinnier.