Queen Bee

February 2008 (2)

Hopping off the brand new treadmill I had recently bought, I felt good. Better than good. I was feeling energized, and satisfied with myself. Like I was finally doing something productive with my time rather than just sitting around, moping, and getting high like I had been doing for the past who knows how long. I was getting stronger with each day, and I was getting healthier with each day. I could feel it in my bones. Thats why after Angel left a few weeks ago, I had told myself now was the time to really start getting my shit together. I was finally physically stable enough to start working out, so that's what I was gonna fuckin' do. 

I never realized just how out of control my weight had gotten until a little while ago, but I was always too depressed and lazy to do anything about it. Not to mention, it wouldn't have helped anyway. The doctor told me due to the pills, I had burned holes right through my fuckin' stomach lining, so it made sense why I was hungry all the time. The only thing I could do to help my stomach aches was just to eat more, and more, and more. But I wasn't eating healthy shit, it was always fast food. It was the easiest. It was the simplest. I didn't have to even think about cooking, and so I took advantage of that. Clearly a little too much... But you know what? This time next year, I'm gonna be down fifty pounds and back to my regular weight. And I'm gonna make sure it happens if it's the last thing I fuckin' do. 

Grabbing my towel from off of the railing, I began lightly dabbing the sweat away from my hairline. Goddamn, I gotta dye it soon. This blonde just isn't working for me anymore, and honestly, it makes me a little uncomfortable. All it does is just remind me of the Slim Shady era, and how shitty of a human I was. If I'm tryna better myself, and free myself from the shackles of drugs, the blonde's gotta go too. Not that it's an actively contributing factor, but it's symbolic, I feel like. Symbolic of the drugs, of the partying, of the girls... Nah. Nah, this shit's gotta go. I can't do this anymore. 

Snatching my phone and water bottle also from off of the treadmill, I headed upstairs. Clicking the home button to my phone, the screen lit up with a missed call from Angel. As a soft smile ran across my face, I was so excited to hear from her. I hadn't spoken to her once she left, in all honesty 'cause I just wanted to give her space. I thought it'd be good for her to just be left alone, not having to worry about me for once in her life, and when she never called over these last few weeks, I decided to just let it be. She'd call when she's ready, and I knew that. She might not have realized it at the time when I told her to go that she needed the space from me, but clearly she did. And I'm never gonna fault her for that ever. I wanted her to go and do her own thing, and she did. And I'm so happy for that. 

Sliding my thumb across her missed call, it immediately began dialling her number. Throwing it onto speaker phone, I continued running up the stairs, towards my bedroom where I could shower and change. Finally, after only a few rings, she answered. 

"Hey! I'm so sorry I haven't called, shit got fuckin' crazy over here as soon as I stepped in the door. Literally." 

Laughing, I pushed the door open to my bedroom, continuing to make my way towards the shower. "Yo, don't worry, don't worry. How're you? What's been goin' on?" 

"Alicia trashed my fuckin' house, that's what's been goin' on." 

"What?!" I squawked, setting my phone down onto the bathroom counter as I chucked my dirty towel into the laundry basket. 

"Yup. Everything's ruined. Fuckin' everything. The only thing that she didn't destroy was Des' room." 

"Holy fuck, Angel! Have ya talked to her?! Is Des okay?! Where have ya'll been stayin' then?!" 

"Yeah, Des is fine, we're staying at Aidan's right now until everything is fixed, but no. I haven't talked to her. I don't need too." 

"So ya'll clearly ain't work anything out then, hey?"