Why don't you know me?

Isn't this what it's all about? Talking to your parents and actually feeling better about yourself from the conversations? Because when I talk to him, I feel more loved. He tells me that I'm pretty, he says if you weren't my daughter I would have fallen in love with you right now, he tells me I've lost weight, he tells me that it'll be okay, he reminds me that after all college years are the best of your life, and he encourages me to keep going. He's being my dad.

But when I talk to you, I feel destroyed. I love you, mum, I really do, but I feel like you're destroying me. I wish I could explain it but your words stab me right in the heart, and they haunt me, and they have put me off food forever. Your words have bred this monster inside of me. And I don't want to hold you responsible for this, because you're not, it's all my doing. But why don't you know me? Like really know me, like a parent is supposed to know their kid? You're meant to feel me, you're meant to see past every silence, past every lie. You don't though, you believe that I'm a pathological liar yet you can never tell the lies apart from the truth. It's bittersweet really, you believe my lies and you refute my truths.

I wish we had stayed a family. There's nothing I want more than that. Nothing.