But tomorrow...

"I'm happy," I tell the stranger next to me on the bus. 

"I'm happy today, and I'm eating. But tonight I'm going to fall asleep crying. And tomorrow I'm going to scar up my leg. And the next day I'm going to stop eating. And after that I'll start hating myself again."

"I'm happy," I say. "But I'm only happy for a little while. And then I am very, very sad."

The stranger on the bus scowls and gets up to move seats. 

"That's fine," I tell them. "I'd run from me to."

Only, there was never any stranger on the bus, because these are the words I hide so desperately to myself.