My Boyfriend is an Angel

We sit eating gummy worms, ones with little
smiley faces. I toss them in my mouth, one
after another. Chewy fruity little worms.
I’m eating too many, I whine.
The guilt is settling down in my
stomach again. My body will swell up like
a balloon. I bought them so we can
eat them,
he says. He knows
I like gummy worms. He says the perfect
thing: You are allowed. You deserve it.
You may eat. I am reminded of my innate
worthiness. Once I was a shy child
who worried about her parents dying
and strangers hurt in car crashes. Once
I was a baby and had to be cared for.
I still need care. Something inside me
is still fragile, but I fight hard.
I do not leap up to kiss him, but pop
another smiling gummy worm in my mouth.

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