Kate noticed, and frowned. “Stop treating me like a fragile kitten!” she commanded. “Just because I’m anorexic doesn’t mean you can start treating me like a weak and breakable girl!”
Nick smiled tentatively. Kate was acting more like herself.
“Tell me your story.”
Kate looked him straight in the eye. “I can’t.”
“Oh . . .”
“You didn’t let me finish!” Kate informed him. “I can’t tell you my story, but I can write about it.” She pressed a piece of paper into his hands, suddenly unable to make eye contact. “Here, this is for you.”
Dear Nick,
I know you think I’m strong, and honest, and brave. The truth is this: I’m not. I’m a coward. I’m too scared to tell you my story. I can’t stand watching your reactions to my weaknesses and failures.
But you deserve to know.
So, here’s the truth: all the words I can never say aloud.
It all started with magazines. I would stand in line at the store, waiting to pay for groceries or clothes or toiletries. The magazine cover shots were hypnotic. I couldn’t look away. The girls on the front were so skinny, so beautiful. They were perfect. I was fat and ugly. If I was skinny, I would also be beautiful. I would be perfect.
I started to eat less. At first, it was little choices. I stopped eating chips and junk food. I stopped drinking soda. I ate smaller servings at meals. Soon, I started skipping meals. I made up weird excuses: I’ve already eaten, I had a big lunch, I’m not hungry. I didn’t like eating in front of other people. It made me self-conscious. It made me feel fat. I started eating alone. If I ate alone, I could eat less.
Then, I started to look at other people. Some of them were thinner than me. I was competitive. I wanted to be the thinnest. So, I ate even less. Instead of skipping a meal, I wouldn’t eat for a day. I stopped eating sugar. I stopped eating carbs.
That summer was the worst. At the beach, I would see people in swimsuits. A few of them were skinnier than me. I was jealous. So, I ate even less. Pretty soon, I only ate fruit and vegetables. Even then, it would only be small servings. An apple slice would be my sustenance for the day. An avocado would tide me over when I was truly starving.
One day, I fell to the floor in my room. I couldn’t get up. I was too weak. I lay there for hours, fading in and out of consciousness. Finally, my sister found me. She started screaming. My dad came in, and they rushed me to the emergency room.
I ended up in rehab, which was no surprise. At first, I hated it. I hated being forced to eat and forced to gain weight. Eventually, I began to understand. I realized that my eating disorder was ruining my life. It forced me to lie to my family and friends. It made me so hungry that I often couldn’t concentrate on anything else. It made my happiness depend on my weight, and my body image. It made me think about nothing else.
I got angry. I got angry with our society, for putting so much importance on being skinny. I became a feminist, to prevent other people from living the same torturous life.
For half a year, I was in recovery. I ate what my nutritionist told me to eat, and I started to focus on things besides body image and weight. Then, I started wrestling. I lost weight because I was exercising so much. Excited by this change in my physique, I began to exercise obsessively. I got a gym membership. In the middle of the night, I would sneak out of the house and use the treadmill for six hours or so. Wrestling weigh-ins didn’t help. I got even more weight-conscious.
I continued on my downhill spiral until last night.
Last night, you saved my life. I know you don’t treasure yourself, Nick, but you should. You are everything that I’m not: strong, and brave, and heart-wrenchingly honest. Try to remember that.
Thank you. For everything.
Kate
Kate started making strange noises. Nick looked up. He realized that Kate was crying, although trying desperately to hide it.
Maybe, Nick suddenly realized, you don’t have to hide your emotions to be strong. Maybe true strength comes from letting your feelings out. It comes from baring your weaknesses to the eyes of another, and taking the leap to trust that other person.
Tentatively, Nick put his arms around her. Gradually, Kate stopped pretending to be okay and began to sob in earnest. Her thin and emaciated body shook with tremendous heaving sobs. He pulled her closer and closer still, as if to suck the pain and misery away.
Eventually the crying died out. Silence hung thickly around them. This time, the silence was different. It was a silence of companionship and shared understanding. It was not an awkward silence.
Kate reached down and squeezed his hand. They sat there, hands clasped, not speaking.
Nick laughed bitterly. “We are such a messed up pair.”
“At least we have each other. Together, we can work through this.”
Together. The word echoed in the air between them.
Nick tried to picture the future. Kate would go to rehab. It would be a long road, but she would get better. She would realize how tough and brave and capable she already was. And if she forgot, she would have Nick to remind her every step of the way.
And Nick . . . he would start to talk. He would tell Kate how he was feeling, even if he didn’t tell anyone else. It would be a long road. But maybe, just maybe, he could learn to trust.
“Together.”
They clasped hands and stared into the infinite future. As always, Nick saw darkness . . . but this time, he also saw light.
###
Acknowledgements
A million thanks to my creative writing teacher, Jennifer Mauck. She has really helped me grow, both as a writer and a person. Thank you to my mother, Becky, and my sister, Claire, for their endless support in my writing. They are always willing to put aside their own duties and obligations and take time to read my newest creation. Finally, thanks to all my amazing friends, for their support and smiles through thick and thin.
About the Author
Jennifer Perry
In first grade, I wrote a book named "Little Wolf's Secret Admirer." It wasn't exactly a bestseller, (or even a seller at all), but I caught the writing bug and have been avidly creating stories ever since.
I'm a psycho runner, a speed reader, and a nerd to the extreme.
I'd love to hear any feedback you have about my work. Have an amazing life!
Contact Me Online!
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