A response to an online article called “5
Reasons to Date a Girl With an Eating Disorder” One. Her obsession over her body will improve
her overall looks. She will never leave the house without makeup,
will always take the time to cover the purple and blue ringing her eyes,
to brush her greying hair that falls out when you touch it.
Her hands are soft with lotion she uses to smooth the teeth marks on her knuckles
Her nails are always well manicured so they don’t scratch her throat. Two. She costs less money. When you take her out to dinner with your
friends, you will have to buy her nothing more than
a salad. As she slices her lettuce leaves into thirds,
your friends will stare, trying not to ask you what the fuck is wrong
with her. Eventually, you’ll be so embarrassed that
you won’t take her out to dinners anymore. Three. She’s fragile and vulnerable. Her skin will bruise when you hug her too
tightly, her shoulder bones digging into your arms.
On the days when she tells you, “I’m sorry, there’s nothing left of me,”
you will have to hide all of the knives and box cutters in your apartment will find yourself wondering
if she can hurt herself with a fork. You look at her and wonder if her bones are
hollow like a baby bird’s. Did you know that mother birds throw up food
into the mouths of their children To make sure they eat.
Have you ever asked her who she is trying to feed by emptying herself? Four. She probably has money of her own. She will hate herself for how her disorder
hurts you, but it’s too hard to talk about it, so her
apologies are disguised as gifts. Picking up the bill: I’m sorry I threw up
your mother’s Thanksgiving dinner. Basketball tickets: I’m sorry that most weekends
I am too tired to get out of bed. A new watch: I’m sorry you have to spend your
time watching me die. Five. She’s better in bed. When you lie next to her, you can trail your
fingers down her spine, feel each vertebrae pushing out of her skin,
all the way down her back in a perfect line, the last bridge she has left to burn.
Flip her over. You can run your hands over the hills of her
ribs, dip your fingertips into the deep valleys
between each bone, those deserts of famished flesh. She will be great in bed, telling you to push
harder, harder, push her so far into the mattress that she
disappears completely. She will say your name over and over and over
until she forgets her own. Date a girl with an eating disorder. Watch
her transform from a girl, to a body, to a skeleton with skin, to a skeleton
in a box. Remember how this was supposed to be easy, how dating
a girl with an eating disorder wasn’t supposed to be this way. But this is what is really is. And you fucking
asked for it.