FICTION
How to Fall Out of Love Madly
Jana Casale
Let me tell you something about my stomach. It's big and I hate it. I think about it all the time. I think about the way it looks in shirts and dresses, the way it sits over my jeans and hangs over the edge. When I'm sitting, it juts out in the most hideous way with big folds. There's no flattering way for me to sit with it so I think about ways to not sit, and I think about sucking it in whenever it is that I am sitting.
I think about what other people think about it, and what they think of me because of it. I never want to look at it, but I can't stop staring at it in the mirror whenever I get the chance. I would love to tell you that it doesn't define how I think of myself, but those are just words and they're not making me feel what it is I want to feel and what it is that I want to feel is thinner. I cry about it a lot, mostly to myself and sometimes to my mom. She usually tells me I'm crazy and that I should stop obsessing.
One time, just once, when I'd called and started in on the same conversation about my weight and how fat I am, she said as I was sobbing.
Who is this for?
Anyone interested in women and their many with each relationships other, their mothers, work, men, and themselves.
NON-FICTION
Sovereigns of the
Sea Seema Alavi
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