apprehension / hemmings

(15) goner

Gran left to go shopping this morning, 'round nine, and she took Rose with her. She could tell that there was something wrong with me, I mean, it was obvious. My attitude changed, my mood had sprung into next July.

The worst part was that I really couldn't decide whether it was because of Luke, or myself.

The house was so quiet, and not even in a good way. You could literally hear every creak and groan that the old London house made, and even if the smallest whisper was made in the the attic, you could hear it in the basement. It was the type of silence that could make you shiver in 37°C weather. It was unhealthy, and mentally, painful.

The entire day, I was reading. Reading, pondering my thoughts about Luke, listening to various alternative artists. I contemplated phoning Luke, but recently, my gut gave off this feeling that he and I were either spending too much time together, or that he didn't really want to talk to me. I didn't do much, and even Gran had told me the earliest she'd be back by was 8:00.

The clock read 9:19, so obviously, she wasn't joking. My stomach wasn't achy or grumbling like I should eat a bear, so I figured I would just take a shower and sleep.

Carefully, I made my way up the stairs. I had to be careful, due to the fact that my drowsiness could have caused injuries that I couldn't afford to sustain, especially in my current state of mind. Our staircase was so vast, anyways, that the slightest slip would easily cause a trip to the A&E.

Once I'd reached the bathroom, I dimmed the lights. Too much exposure would have caused my headache to expand in ways unimaginable. I mean, it sounds as if I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but when you feel like a Bring Me The Horizon song, you want the lights dim.

Before I made my way up the stairs, I was sure to check for hot water, and thank god that there was some. As the water ran, I did as most people would do (at least, what I assume most people would do), and undressed myself. The exact second I lifted my top off of my torso, the wind delivered a chill through the one open window in my bathroom.

What am I doing with my life?

For a moment, I simply kept my gaze on the running water of the shower. A heavy sigh slipped from my lips and right then, I decided I'd rather take a bath than a shower. It'd give me more soak, still time, and just time to relax. God, I sound like a stereotype. Quickly, I tossed my conditioner, shaving cream, and a loofah into the tub that was quickly filling up.

I slowly slipped into the tub, and immediately, my body warmed up because of the water's heat. I felt my nerves flutter all at once, before slowly calming down. I couldn't believe that the temperature alone was what relieved me of stress and anxiety I'd been suffering the entire day out. 

I began to wonder things about myself. Like, what do people smell when they walk past me? Lavender? Do I smell good? Is my body wash lying to me when it says I'll smell like vanilla for days? What does Luke think I smell like?

And then, my eyes flashed open. Sloth like, nearly, I tilted my head down to avert my attention to my body, something I had always been highly insecure about. 

In college, I was always teased by girls with ugly faces about my weight. I was either over or under their perfect seeming weight, and although I never did understand, I succumbed to their pansy words and tried to balance out my body weight. I tried push up bras, to make my breasts appear to be larger, and even those waist shrinkers, even though I was a hopeless mess and knew that it'd never work.

One of my largest struggles was overcoming some stupid disorder that the girls who teased me caused me to suffer from, and that would be depression. I'm only 17 years old. I knew that it 'ran through my genetics, I was bound to get it', yada yada yada. When my pediatrician told me I was suffering from mild depression, a part of me just left.