the air is cold.

This is something I wrote a few years ago in the depths of my eating disorder. Funny how the most lyrical, descriptive things come out when you are sick.

The early morning air chills my bones as I walk to the bus stop. Immediately as I step onto the bus I can feel the eyes of the other patrons staring through me. What I have failed to realize is there is only 2 people riding, neither of which looked at me when I got on. The paranoia sets in. I shifted slightly as my sit bones cut into the plastic chair. I begin to wish there were more people on the bus, so I could stand. Stand up, it burn is more calories. Stand up, and your legs won't look so wide. The noise in my head grows louder until I am pushed off the bus, struck once again by the chilled air, I lose my breath. Will I make it through the day?