I have never been in love.
I thought I loved someone
but it turns out, I have to love myself before I can love someone else.
I cannot listen to him paint pictures of how beautiful he thinks I am
while contemplating skipping meals
he painted his love in swooping lovely strokes
pretty words filling in the white spaces
but every stroke
every word
the more the canvas was covered
the more empty I felt.
I couldn't listen or believe him
because I felt that would make me less pretty
I must be the shy vulnerable girl
that I believed every man wants
I couldn't see myself as beautiful
when I thought I loved him.

piece by piece
I’m repairing myself.
I’m learning to look in the mirror without turning away
I’m learning it is alright for me to attach beauty to my body.
I still skip meals
I still feel sad
but I am learning I am worth more
more than the words he assigned me
more than how I look.

I think I’m starting to love myself
the words kind and smart mean more than cute
maybe when I finally stop seeing food as failure
and the mirror as a monster
can I start to love someone else
because I
I have never been in love.