THE THIRTIETH

The night was long and tortuous, filled with random dreams that made no sense. When dawn finally arrives, I remove my bandages and hop in the shower, soaping my hair and body in an effort to remove the delightful hospital aroma that I seem to have acquired.

I find some clothes in the locker next to my bed and notice that they are the clothes Taylor bought me. I feel uneasy about putting them on, but given my lack of options, I slip them on anyway. The black skinny jeans that had previously hugged my figure now hang loosely off my hips, and the grey silk T-shirt feels two sizes too large. The grey cardigan I loved swamps my figure even when cinched in with the belt. At least the boots still fit.

I examine my face in the mirror properly for the first time, and I am astounded by how much weight I have lost. My cheeks are almost gaunt, and my hair, while never having been my crowning glory, has a lacklustre sheen. Seriously, I look like crap.

I distract myself by flicking through a pil