Pretend that’s not really my alarm going off, I just went to sleep.
Pretend I really do want to walk that extra mile, not that I have to because I ate popcorn last night.
Pretend that customer did not just hit on me. Again. He knows I know he’s married, I also take care of his wife. And he knows I’m married too.
Pretend those memories don’t mean anything, tiptoe around them so they lay still.
Pretend I want to weigh myself. Every. Fucking. Day.
Pretend I don’t want the number on the scale to be lower. No matter what it is.
Pretend I don’t worry about money.
Pretend I don’t want to tell them about themselves for treating her like that. And them too.
Pretend I don’t cringe when I remember that day. That night. Or that I can’t remember that night.
Pretend I don’t still want to slap her across her face for telling those lies.
Pretend I don’t want to take you in my arms.
Pretend I don’t hate myself for doing that. Again.
Pretend I don’t see that on the toilet paper when I wipe.
Pretend I didn’t just eat all of the marshmallows, and just the marshmallows, out of that brand new box of Lucky Charms.
Pretend I don’t feel that in my hip when I’m walking.
Pretend I don’t love you so much it hurts. Please do what you need to do.
Pretend I don’t want to tell him to get over himself. To stop playing victim. To stop being a bully.
Pretend I don’t want to just melt in social situations.
Pretend that feeling hungry and slightly in pain isn’t a comfortable and comforting feeling.
Pretend I can’t go on and on pretending.