Vignettes of an Eating Disorder, Part 10

The first time my mom came to visit was a Friday. The wind was trying to blow the door closed as I struggled to hold it for her, and when I finally let go, the slam reverberated through the ground floor. She looked at me through the eyes that were also mine and she saw all the brokenness deep under my skin and our eyes, mirror images, welled with the tears that told us both what we had to do.

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