Body, forgive me.

I’m sorry for all the years of picking and prodding at the skin you trusted me to protect. I’m sorry; I can’t promise that I won’t do it again. In times of stress, you get irritable and want to let me know to calm down and give you a break– to stop touching, tucking, tormenting. I’m sorry I never listen.

I’m sorry I never gave you enough rest to keep up with me. I just kept going, kept trucking on even though at that point, the only strong part of me was my soul. I’m sorry it took losing every ounce of health I thought I had to recognize that I was taking care of everything but you.

I’m sorry I wear unsupportive shoes so you have to work harder to keep me upright. I’m sorry I’m bad at taking my medication so your chemicals are always imbalanced. I’m sorry I pull the healthy skin from your lips like a warm blanket ripped off in the morning; your heat leaves just as your blood flows, and I guard neither.

I’m sorry you weren’t my first priority.

I worked you so hard, I thought I could outrun your needs and just take care of me. But you’re a part of me too, and I need to remember that.

I’m sorry I didn’t attempt to take care of you until it was for selfish reasons, so I wouldn’t hurt any more or would feel better about myself. I’m sorry my repent is for absolvement and not for love.

Body, forgive me.

But I am trying to heal you.

I have a bulk reservoir of chapstick to remind me to feel guilty that your lips are naked of a few layers, to reapply those that are missing.

I drink water like I breathe and take as much as I can get. I’ll always be depleted from years of drinking anything but the fluid that keeps you alive.

I sleep in mass amounts, and I don’t feel guilty for it. Eight hours of sleep plus one or more naps throughout the day– hours of sleep are complimentary gifts for you. Take as many as you like; you’ve done everything to deserve them. Multiple all-nighters every week, hard work, not eating– you have earned the right to sleep long and well for every minute your eyes were open when they shouldn’t have been.

I’ve spent inordinate amounts of money on face washes and massages for every dollar I never spent taking care of you to thank you for everything you do for me.

I eat. I eat and eat for every meal I skipped or snack I turned down because I was “too busy.” I may not be hungry- I’ve never been the type to crave- but I will not let you go unnourished.

I will never look at you and hate that I have to take care of you. I never understood the words “my body is a temple” until I realized you were the only thing that deserved my worship. Nobody does as much for me as you do. The things I genuinely want, everything that is important to me, you are the one who makes it possible. I am a mere lifeguard to your sheer will. I look in the mirror, and I can appreciate everything you have gone through to get here, to prove to me that you can keep up. I never noticed until now.

Body, forgive me.