The Way I Loved You

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter 36

TW: Mention of ED (if you are sensitive to this content, i'll be adding 2-3 spaces that skips that part.)

It's three days since that whole thing happened in the locker room.

Grayson sent me home that day. We were finally getting to the point where we felt— okay.

Laying on my bed, I thought about how everything in my life could be so hard to cope with, until one day, a single person could change it for you.

I remember being 17, I was so out of place. I had friends, of course, but I barely connected with them. They were out having fun, and I was in charity events for my parents, it wasn't really the "teenage dream" you'd want, well I guess not for me.

Everyday I'd wake up feeling like a visitor in my own home. I was there for my parents to show off, that they had the most perfect daughter anyone could've dreamt to have. No one likes a mad woman.

Sit straight, don't slouch. Sit properly, you're not a boy. Wear dresses, it's more feminine. Smile, don't look rude.

'Don't eat too much, you'll have a bloated stomach. No one likes that honey.'

'Your arms are looking bigger, go exercise.'

'You've gained weight recently.'

I could just hear my mothers voice every time I pick up food, and when I turned 19, I thought it would go away by then, but her voice strangled me every time. Every time food would be in my mouth, her words bite. I hated it.

I hated the feeling that I needed validity from her. That my body wasn't good enough. It hurt that it came from my mother— my 0wn mother.

The mother whose supposed to be the one giving me comfort, that it was all gonna be okay. The mom who gave enough time for her daughter, who gave enough memories to look back at.

But I didn't have that.

I was 17 when I realized that maybe the calories I ate won't add if I just throw it up in the toilet. It worked. I exercised, I ran miles, I ate, then throw it up afterwards.

Repeat.

Exercise, Run, Eat, Throw up.

Eat, Throw up.

Wake up, Run, Throw up.

THROW UP.

It was a routine I never let go of until I neared the age 20. My age, today.

I haven't relapsed in a while, and I pray to god that I won't. That nothing would trigger me to repeat that endless cycle I've done. I beg for it to never happen again.

I don't wanna be the girl who relied on her mother for her own validity. All I wanted was to finally be happy, and be my own reason on why I smile. Though it's hard, I never wanted to be my own reason why I gave up. I had to be my own archer, even if I was on that tightrope everyday, even if I hated my reflection for years, I had to think about the tomorrows.

I had to prove, not just to my mother, but to myself too that I'm fucking enough.

That I'll be okay.

Now that I am, I just wanna let go of everything that happened behind me.

For some odd reason, I never thought that Grayson Richards would be the guy that would change something in me. Remembering how we were before, we loathed each other. I couldn't even be in the same vicinity as him or anger would just bolt right through me.