good enough

That time when I failed an exam, by two marks.
No hug or celebrations or cards,
just the disappointed look on my father’s face.

The times I’d catch my boyfriend looking at other women that way,
I’d wonder, how can I make sure he doesn’t leave me? How can I make him stay?
Make myself thinner?
Okay.

That time when my mental health hit an all time low,
and I was broken up with on top of that, perfect timing,
just to soften the blow.

All the times I was left at empty tables in the school dining hall,
no amount of friends at 30 will ever fill that hole.

That time when there was a group chat, for everyone, except me.
That’s happened a fair few times actually.

The times (years) I spent suffering from OCD
1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.
And wasting my parents’ time and energy.
Being ridiculed every morning for my crying, panic-driven, nightmares and screams,
the night before.

That time he cheated on me for six months,
yet told me he missed me
before calling it off.
To then parade her around in front of me like a trophy.

Every time I look in the mirror and think
“You used to be thinner, prettier. You’ve let yourself go,
and you can try but you’ll never look that good again though”.

Every morning when I wake up and recount,
all the ways I’ve let the people I love down.

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