Once in a lifetime.

⚠️35

September

Dalton- Delivered: 9:30 am
I'm so sad
I wish that I could be with you and just hold you
How are you?

Normally I would jump at the chance to text him back, I would quickly type out a message worried that if I didn't he would put his phone down and not text me back for weeks. I would try and catch him while the phone is still in his hand and I'm fresh in his mind. Every time except this time. This time I delete the message and decide that maybe he will realize how awful it is to be left alone when you hate yourself. Especially when the person knows you're hating yourself.

Sometimes I think I enjoy causing myself pain, I mean clearly. I do because every once in a while I'll go onto Instagram and check the hashtag of my boyfriend's name. Every time I see his face it hurts. Yet I find myself doing it again and again, but this time it hurts more because there are new posts. Have you ever had something happen where you can feel things seem to slow down around you, not in a good way where time seems to be irrelevant, but in a way where it's like it doesn't exist? You can't pull your eyes away from the photos or whatever it is that's making time slow down. It's like you are forced to take the whole thing in and memorize it, but that's the last thing you wanna do.

It's painful so why would you wanna remember it. Remember what you see. By the time you realize you wanna forget it, it's too late. That's when the intrusive thoughts and worries begin, maybe he's not just with the other girl but he's with the other girl. Maybe it was all a game to him and I was the pieces being played. I go back and forth wondering if I'm the cause, maybe I was too much or not enough of one thing. He can't just text randomly and expect her to be waiting, can he? But I am waiting because I miss him and because I want to believe that we're going to make it work and be happy.
But soon it's time for ballet and I'm forced to lock my phone and put it under everything in my bag trying to forget both the photo and the phone.

Amber and I find our way to the Barr, we are consistent Barr buddies. We enjoy being next to each other our grand pliés are the same as are our Battement, it's nice to be next to someone who you aren't comparing yourself to as much as you might others. I see Ethan out of the corner of my eye keep looking at me. I try and ignore him, but he doesn't stop. It makes me feel funny and I feel like he's judging my every move. After Barr, we all collect to one side of the room and I'm finally able to ask Amber about it.

"Did you notice Ethan kept staring at us, is he okay?" I try and make it sound like a joke, but Amber doesn't answer. "Amber, did you notice?"

"Umm," she's nervous and suddenly it hits me. I glance behind me to see Ethan smiling and when I look back Amber is smiling back at him.

"Are you two gawking at each other?"

She quickly looks away and her focus is finally on me. "What?"

I smile, "You are! Did he finally admit he liked you?" She nods her head looking anywhere but me. "And did you finally admit to yourself that you like him back?" No matter how much she'd like to pretend it's obvious to everyone but Ethan that Amber likes him.

"I don't like him."

So that's a no. "Yes, you do." I insist, "You were just staring at him."

"Was not." I turn around unconvinced because it's almost my turn to do the floor work. "He asked me to dinner."

"Ooooh, what did you say?"

"Yes."

I smile, "So you've admitted to him that you like him but not yourself."

"I don't like him."

"Sure. That's how you're looking at him now, like you don't like him."

"Shut up," she smiles, and I'm happy for them but I can't help and be a little jealous that her boyfriend is just a phone call away and mines not.

My stomach has been acting weird, and I know that to most people my body itself is weird, but it's weirder than normal. Anything with dairy smells spoiled, I can't even go near Chick-fil-a sauce. Which would normally be a no-go, to begin with, but it just sounded so good. I'm supposed to start my period soon so I guess I could just say it's that but I don't want to. I barely eat anything, to begin with, and I eat less on my period because of cramping. Maybe my anxiety about eating is making my period late, but if that's the case why is everything with dairy smelling bad?

Every time I get dressed my boobs are swollen and tender. I've started putting extra padding because even doing Grand jeté's is painful. Ballet already requires them to be as still as possible, but with the extra tenderness, I've had to try harder to make them stay in one place. I've been hungry after rehearsal as well. I'm normally over the moon with how many calories I've burned and how light and weightless I feel. Sometimes I even weigh myself to try and see my progress.

Each day after I get home though I almost run to the fridge and stuff my face. Which leads to more self-hating.
Sometimes I hate myself more when I eat than when I don't eat. I feel like by eating I'm failing myself. Like I'm losing a battle I've been fighting. I feel like it would be easier to just not eat. But I can't stop myself from bringing the chips to my lips and biting down on them. With every crunch comes more hate. I begin to hate myself more then, so it's kind of like I'm eating my self-hate. I become all too aware of my surroundings, who's watching me, how my body feels in the chair, how much space I take up.

How much more I'll probably take up once I'm done eating. How my stomach feels, and how the food which feels like poison tastes. This is probably the time I should reach out. I should ask someone for help or confide in them with what I'm feeling, but I can't. I feel ashamed that food has this much power over me, it shouldn't and that makes me more ashamed. I try and reason with myself, if I eat this I'll just work it off, I can make up for this mistake. I can get back on track and still be okay, I continue to lie to myself, because I know I won't be okay. If I eat or don't eat, either way I'm not going to be okay.