Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. This is un-beta'd, all mistakes are mine.

Insults swirl and cloud my mind as I watch the hot mess walking in front of me. Vicious and cruel I can't help think them. Split ends top off dull unwashed hair, her clothes hang unflatteringly on her overweight body and they've clearly been worn over and over. The bobble ridden top gets sucked into the folds of fat hanging over the back strap of her bra. A muffin top pours from the tops of her jeans and jiggles in time with her saggy, flabby ass. This girl is unattractive.

But don't worry nameless girl in front of me, these voices that hurl insults about you against my awash-with-guilt skull won't be directed at you for long. No, the only pain that really feeds their hunger is my own. You'll distract them for a while, giving me a bitter sweet relief that keeps me going. I hate how my insecurities make me lash out at you, I'm sorry my fucked up brain needs to pull you apart so hatefully in order to feel a shred of happiness. I'm disgusting. Oh god, they're done with you now, can you see.

Every embarrassing moment of my life squeezes my stomach, flips it around and around until I'm swallowing bile back passed the ball of humiliation and nausea that's lodged in my throat. I berate myself over things I did over ten years ago. Dragging myself over scalding hot coals of shame as I watch again and again as that shy new girl makes a fool of herself. Each wave of indignity is followed by the statement, "Oh, and remember when this happened…"

This cruel taunting can last for hours but it's only the beginning. Never satisfied with my cringing and squirming over those mortifying moments my sense of self-worth gets dragged into the spotlight. A lifetimes worth of failures flash into my head, each one tearing painfully at my heart. Friendships that have exploded in anger, school exams that fail to meet the standard and each tiny mistake at works drags me further into the dark pit of self-loathing.

They have a taste for my pain now and they've saved the best for last. I stand in front of the full length mirror in our room and wonder why you love me. Grease shines on my forehead so bright not even the thickest foundation can dull it down. Every inch of my body jiggles and wobbles with every tiny movement. I grab and pinch at the excess flab cursing the skinnier-than me co-worker who tempted me with a chocolate bar earlier.

I cup my breasts and lift them high, higher, before letting them fall back into place. The right is massively bigger than the left and one nipple points up while the other looks down. Tiny red pimples litter my body, the tops of my arms and décolletage suffering the worst.

I turn to scowl at my ass. Orange peel texture, that's how I've heard cellulite described before and I see why. A hard slap pinks my left butt cheek and sends ripples across and down to the tops of my thighs.

I spend hours buffing, waxing, plucking at this pathetic excuse of a body and I'm still nothing. Still not good enough. And that's why you cheated isn't it? I know, I know. It was a mistake, one that was made over a year ago, and you love me, but it still haunts me. She still haunts me.

And even though I've seen her, up close and personal as she gushed over how lucky I was to have you and how nice of a person I was, and know that her looks aren't any better than mine in my head she is. In my head she's a goddess that rivals even Aphrodite's beauty.

I see her when you hold me, when your lips press against me and when you whisper your love against my skin. I see her every time you don't come when we fuck. I see her in every, "not tonight, baby. I'm tired." I see her with every throwaway comment that guts me. You've become careless with my sensitivity because you don't hear me when I scream.

Loud, throat hurting, soul destroying screams pour from my eyes almost every night as we lie in bed. With my face pressed into my pillow I let the pain flow hot and salty from my tired eyes. My body convulsing with sobs I try to hide from you. Maybe I shouldn't try so hard. You've never noticed. Why don't you notice me?

"Because you're pathetic. A disgusting, needy mess that couldn't possibly give him what he needs." The voices tear at my flesh; rip through muscle and viscera until they've clawed their way into my soul. My hearts a raggedy mess as it lays in tatters at your feet.

I crawl into bed, into our bed, to hide. From the voices, the world and you. I used to sleep to escape but they follow me into my dreams now. Leaking into the happy and discolouring everything with vile hatred for myself. I repeat the phrase, "I hate myself." So many times in a day it's become my mantra.

You find me there, cocooned in blankets and your shirt. You climb in with me and pull me close. It chases the voices away, loosens my chest and allows me to breathe easy for the first time that day. I sigh against your chest, loving how good your heat feels. How good your strength feels holding me above the bitingly mean waters, your heart beat like a beacon in the night.

Soft kisses against my head soothe me into sleep. Today's been a rough day, maybe the voices will be sated and I'll sleep. Tomorrow stretches ahead of me long and exhausting. This can't go on.