Here I am sitting seemingly alone. I look around, indeed, I recognize this room. I can perceive every corner of the room and distinguish the types of furniture vividly, regardless the inescapable darkness. As if my eyes possessed the miraculous night vision. This is my own bedroom yet not my very own bedroom.
I see a girl standing at the corner of my bedroom. I seem to know this girl, perhaps because I have not seen her after quite awhile. Her long, ginger, yet dry hair, clipped with a cute red bow. Her aquamarine sailor uniform. Her pale face. Her pale lips. Her sunken cheeks. Her wide thigh gap. The thinnest, the skinniest girl I have ever met. Every tiniest bit of her physical features remained the same. She walks closer, toward me.
It is Anna.
She is back.
I left her for good two years ago, thinking that happiness is not when I am obeying, adhering her way of eating. The way she sees and thinks of food. Her interpretation of beauty. Her fondness toward starvation. Her obsession with such a body. Her fixation to reveal her bones. Her stubbornness and obstinacy. She did pervade me. She did take me in captive. Every tiniest bit of her thoughts, persistence, and demeanor used to be a part of me.
So I left her.
However, now I suppose I was mistaken.
I feel nothing but sorrow when she is not a part of me. I feel nothing but regret when she is not with me. I lost my self-esteem. I lost my self-confidence.
Days ago, I called her name, I longed for her. So here she is, comes back for me, sits next to me, pervades everything in her mind into me. Her mind is my mind now, for the second time.
Sometimes I do confuse, is it Anna who comes back for me or I am the one who is yearning for her. Or perhaps she is solely my alter ego. I can never be certain.
The fact that a part of her presence is a part of my source of happiness.
This time, I will not regret, and I will not cast her away anymore.