*** Featured on StoruesUndiscovered ***
A bittersweet story about a lover who never stayed and a love that never ended.
Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the products of my imagination. Any resemblance is...
"I feel a little rush, I think I've got a little crush on you." -Crush, Yuna ft Usher
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The day I walked into my college campus, I promised myself two things: That I'd lose weight and get straight A's. Only one of those promises was easy to keep.
Throughout my freshmen year, I didn't date, didn't party, didn't do whatever college students did that brought them gratification in a normal, fun way. I avoided what I reckoned would be distraction like the plague. I didn't drink because alcohol smelled like poison to me. Why would I drink something that smelled so... noxious? I hated parties because multiple people, dancing, emitting sweat, dirt, and germs everywhere, seemed very unhygienic. And also, being a living, breathing vessel for STIs wasn't appealing to me.
The first semester of Freshmen year was the hardest. I made the colossal mistake of housing in the assigned dorms on campus, and I was stuck with a loud roommate and a bed adjacent to the door. I kept getting woken up in the middle of the night when she came home drunk. The second semester was much bearable. By that time, I knew what to do and what not to do. Well, not entirely, but comparatively. Getting used to the environment, having friends, and being familiar with the courses definitely helped. I had classes with the infamous professor McSpitit again but, I was smart enough to foresee the debacle and sit in the middle aisle. Long story short, my skin wasn't exposed to unnecessary bacteria disguised in saliva. What was it they say? Fool me once...?
Sophomore year had been cutthroat. Though I stayed true to myself and maintained my grade A average, losing weight was another story. I was constantly pulling all-nighters, which meant more time for late-night snacks, which meant, hello belly rolls and double chin. Standing at just 5 feet tall, weight seemed to just naturally accumulate on my body. I was almost 140lbs, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't care. It made me a little self-conscious, but I had little time on my hands to micro analyze those things like I used to. I was stressed enough with school.
My fixation on my weight started when I was very young. We were calculating our BMIs during health class in high school when the calculation confirmed my suspicion. I was indeed a little overweight for my height. I wasn't embarrassed so to speak, but I was made aware of it, rather passively. I immediately joined our school's track team and started running every morning. That was how I had maintained my weight for years. I somehow found solace in running, but since moving to LA for college, I hadn't been able to run like I used to, if at all. First, the unfamiliarity of my new living arrangement made it hard for me to naively go out and run alone. Then, school load increased, forcing me to give up on my habit once and for all, which resulted in me putting on some weight.
I had just started my second semester of sophomore year when Noah and I started talking. There was a lot on my plate, and it was the busiest year of my life. I was majoring In Integrative Biology and Physiology and minoring in Spanish and ASL. My Saturdays and Sundays were reserved for my shift at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center, where I volunteered. I didn't get to have summer break because I had signed up for summer classes, and instead of going back home for my spring break, I had stayed and picked up more shifts at the hospital. Good thing that I didn't have to work because I was on a full-ride, and my parents were kind enough to support me financially.
