To my "Love,"

No will ever love me like you,

What you told me over and over like a broken record skipping on a familiar riff:

Somewhat comforting, yet growing a hole in your heart with every repetition.  

I was not worthy of loving and yet, You,

The savior of my young heart had mercy on my loneliness and blessed me with this “love.”

The price for this love was small,

Nothing that was not worth the loneliness I ran from.

Spend all of my time with you, no friends.

Forbidden to speak to a dear friend from my childhood based only on the Y in his chromosome.  

“No makeup, who are you trying to impress at school today?

Cover up, slut.  Who are you wearing that for?

If you loved me you’d do it.  Don’t you love me?

I’m sorry, It won’t happen again.”  Guess what, it did.

One week away from you, that’s all it took.

One week at a volunteer summer camp, finding myself.

One week of serving with people who were loving and genuine.

One week of discovering that the loneliness I thought I was running away from, was actually manifesting around you.  

The price of it all was never ending;

Even after we parted your voice still echoed in my mind.

Your love was like a tacky vacation tshirt:

“I sold my body for your acceptance and all I got was this lousy eating disorder”

4 years later and I am found gorging myself with food when loneliness creeps in.  

Food never hurt me, lied to me.  

Food never judged how I looked or what I wore.  

But like everything that came from you, it had to be purged.

I know today that I am worth more than the price you had set.

I work every day to overcome the barriers we built together.

Remnants of you still wonder into my heart and my mind sometimes.

I no longer push them away; They are memories that seek to ensure that

No one will ever love me like you.  

Brooke