Author's Note- I don't really know anything about anorexia except for the facts. I've never experienced it or the treatment or anything like that. If I get any of the anorexia parts wrong, just message me, nicely please, and I'll fix it. Don't kill me though.
~~~
“I talked to Michaela and she said she was going to come down here and visit me during the summer. She wants to meet you when she comes.” I told Drake, as we held hands and walked to the library.
“Okay. What does she look like?”
“Here, I'll just show you a picture.” I showed Drake the picture that Michaela had sent me last week, when she had gotten her hair cut for a school dance with Ronnie.
“Looks decent. Yeah, I'll meet her.”
“Decent? What do you consider 'good-looking', then?”
“Well, blonde curls are the hottest I think. Red heads are super cute though. I'm into dark hair as well, like black. Purple is my favorite color, so purple eyes. But I only know one person with purple eyes, so green is good, too. What else? These parts aren't looks, but I'll add them anyway. Someone that's comfortable in their skin. Doesn't worry about their weight or anything.” Drake paused, then looked over at me, where I was quiet, staring at the road.
“What are you thinking?” Drake asked quietly, squeezing my hand.
“I'm thinking that you almost just described me.” I whispered, avoiding his gaze.
“What did I miss?”
“It's not what you missed. It's what you added." I paused, I couldn't believe I was about to admit this. "I haven't told anyone here yet, but a while ago I was anorexic. From age 11 until 14. I was one of the lucky ones though, I guess you could say. Once I accepted I had a problem, I didn't avoid recovery. But my body was too damaged to let me eat again. They had to keep me in the hospital for a long time, feeding me by a tube until my body accepted eating again and I could go home.”
Drake was quiet and just stared ahead.
“Speechless, huh?” I laughed.
“No. I have things I could say. But I've learned that just because you say “sorry” or something, it doesn't change anything. Your life isn't going to change, the situation isn't going to change, by me saying “sorry.”
“That's exactly how I feel. But everyone else thinks it's rude.”
“This is perfect. I mean, it's horrible. But it works perfectly for me. Are you comfortable talking about it? About the anorexia and all that? Because we're learning about eating disorders and stuff in health and Mrs. Brown said we could do an extra credit project about an eating disorder.”
“I guess so, some parts at least. Yeah, I'll help.”
“Okay, first question.” When we had gotten to the library, Drake pulled out a notebook, pen, and voice recorder, like he had known we were going to do this, and had immediately started the questions.
“If you remember, what was your weight when you started being anorexic?”
“You don't start being anorexic. It's not something you just jump into. You slowly become it. Well, it slowly becomes you. I was 5'1, 100 pounds. Perfect BMI, 18.9, according to the school nurse.”
“Were you smaller than most of your friends?”
“All, except for one. Michaela was 5'1, 94 pounds. Always. Well all of our other weights would falter, her's would always be 94. Exact. Until we got into middle school. Then we were both 5'2, and she was 115. I was 109.”
