Friday, March 31, 2017

dear little body of mine, 

whew. i love you. i try to tell you i love you every day. i try to tell you i love you within the first two steps of my run because it is actually amazing to me that you can run at all. every doctor ever told me i shouldnt ever run. actually, every doctor ever told me i shouldn't be alive. but that is too much to unpack for one letter.

 this letter is about my 102 pound body. it is small. my hands are nearly child sized. but, despite all the negative words, i do love my little body. but little body, right now you are broke as hell. and i'm sorry for that. but also, needing you to be healed soon. 

my insides are literally falling apart. nearly every organ is messed up. which, if you think about it, is actually pretty amazing that my little body can be so synchronized that it fails in unison. i digress. little body, please stop failing me. i eat healthy. i see a chiropractor weekly, i exercise, i soak in vitamin D and even recently have started using sunscreen. I'm just trying to do all the things i want to do, adventurous and mundane, and you are making that pretty difficult. 

i'm not sure what you need. i'm not sure if you need medicine, if you need voodoo medicine, if you need a vacation, if you need a swift kick in the pants, or what. let a sister know. i'll do what i can to take care of you better. i'll do whatever you want. i am doing the best i can though. we've come 26 years together, surely you want to hold on quite a bit more time? 

little body of mine, i'll try to listen to you more and continue telling you i love you. but please don't fail me now. 

love, 
your concerned and sick owner

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