Letters and Diary Non-Fiction posted January 12, 2018


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A plea to partners of Body Dysmorphic Disorder sufferers.

Vaseline, Yoga, Neighbors, Home

by Allison Lax

The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.

When I got up to wash my hands immediately after giving you that hand job the night we went out to see Baby Driver, did you judge me? I'm not saying you did, I actually don't know if I care if you do, but did you? I mean, obviously it's not this big weird thing to want something sticky off your hands, and that oh so discreet jar of Vaseline in your pocket was pretty damn greasy, God now that I'm thinking about it you probably didn't even notice and your mind was A. hopefully blown or B. back on Ansel Elgort and your popcorn already but- did you, notice? Normal girls, they give their hand jobs and normal girls wipe their hands on the backs of their jeans and normal girls just laugh after and hold their boyfriends hands but normal girls don't have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. BDD- a stern mistress, one who waits for no man, or penis. No, BDD girls, we give our hand jobs too don't get me wrong, but BDD girls don't get to just "watch" the movie after. Cleanse it, ice it, tone it, seal it, screen it. BDD girls (that's me), we keep one hand on your dick and one clawing into side of the movie seat because dear god what if you were going to kiss me after? And you'd try to be romantic and reach to brush my hair back and I'd probably want to move it since it's stuck in my mouth and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Nathan, the Vaseline is still on my fingers and it touched my cheek, and fuck. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I AM GOING TO GET A BREAKOUT.

Trust me. 365 days filled with hours upon hours of acne-related research have equated this as fact backed with mathematical certainty. See, Vaseline is just one bullet on this endless laundry list of potential acne triggers. "Never slather Vaseline on an unwashed face if you want to avoid breakouts." One bullet's all it takes to kill you. The first shot was clean, simple- a breakup. Did you know that when you build your home in someone else they get to take it when they leave? You don't know that much about me yet, Nathan, but you've seen how fucking easily I get cold, and BDD- it filled my warm places. Cleanse it, ice it, tone it, seal it, screen it. I don't know if you could tell from the super sexy soccer mom ensemble I had on that night, since that day I had this dentist appointment and I was so nervous because I knew she was going to spritz! spritz! spritz! that stupid little mouth gun all over my teeth and toothpaste would get all over my face and obviously my pores so I didn't want to wear makeup and fuck, the one brush fell on the floor anyway and I will vote for Trump a thousand times before putting a dirty makeup brush anywhere near my face but hoo- anyway. Yeah. Um. Vaseline- let's not- we're good.

Anyway. For our next "date", want to go to Rittenhouse again? We can walk around, actually talk, maybe grab some Snap Kitchen like that other time so you can try- yoga? Oh, not yoga? Yeah I was gonna say, that is not my thing at all. Fun fact: I took this beginner class last fall and the grad student teaching literally asked her supervisor how to help me out because I was literally the most unflexible person she'd ever met, I mean she was sincerely nice, even painfully concerned when she told me and she didn't say that out loud but- oh hot yoga. So like yoga, but somehow worse... You think it would be good for me? I am stiff as year old Ramen, how on earth would it be good for me? Oh- for the BDD. Stressing less. With the breathing. Wow. That's sweet. Not "sweet." Honest, generous, considerate, kind - thank you.

But, well... A. Yoga kind of sucks and B.- I'm sorry, but yoga really sucks and I'm glad you like it but I have 0 idea how you do, but (C) that stuff is actually crazy, crazy triggering. Ha- Breathing. Breathing. mats?, bacteria, sweat?, pores, dripping? worry, stress?, panic, sweat? panic, flight? magnet. Magnet? Mirror. Anxious? Crying. Crying? Pores. Filled? Breakout. Break out?! Break down,? Breaks me. Cleanse it, ice it, tone it, seal it screen it, scream it- Can we do something else?

Did you know, when we went on that first date in Rittenhouse, that moved to Clark Park, that moved to your bed, I made a decision about you? I decided that you were the best listener I'd ever met, other than my mom. And I thought about my home and how much I've blown up, torn down,ripped apart, rebuilt myself in just 365 days and- damn. I've been single for a long time. Living in myself for a long time. And I hated it until I liked it and now I love it like I love eating gluten free blueberry oatmeal drizzled in honey every morning and sometimes at night, but- I could use a neighbor. Not a nanny, not a plumber, just a nice sweet elderly woman to say hello and we water each other's flower baskets while the other one's away...Could you use a neighbor? I'm a good listener too and I can fill your warm places but please, don't feel like you have to fill mine because my house is fixed. BDD floods the basement and my attic is full but please don't judge it because Nathan, we can dance up there. So build your house next to mine- be my neighbor. I will be your best listener and yank on your dick and water your plants but if you don't want that? Now's the time to say so.



Couldn't get my work to copy and paste correctly, so there are some italics not included. Would love to know how this piece can pack more punch.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by Photopeb at FanArtReview.com

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© Copyright 2018. Allison Lax All rights reserved.
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