Just Breathe (IN EDITING)

Sunlight

"Okay Phil, we're going to have to go over it one more time. May I remind you that we will only make progress if you cooperate" There are two windows on the wall. They don't have any curtains but they do have shades. Sun seeps in with little lines that reflect on my thighs. Grey joggers cover them but they still look large. I think about the things the doctor is saying. I don't want to talk about food. The clock on the wall ticks. Nine minutes left.

"Yesterday for breakfast I had a cup of orange juice. A grapefruit, two eggs, two pieces of toast with strawberry jam. a bowl of cereal." The door to the room is closed. His pen clicks against the yellow pages. Then it scribbles down words neither of us want to say. His chair is brown, the only dark thing in the room. White walls blue floors blue eyes.

"For a snack I had two granola bars, they had chocolate" His hairs are grey and fall over his ears when his head nods with approval. A cloud goes over the sun and the lines on my thighs go away. I think about the granola bars. I flushed them down the toilet.

"I had chicken Alfredo at lunch with a bowl of broccoli" The clock ticks away, seven more minutes. He looks up patiently, he waits.

"And a bag of crisps. In the afternoon the nurse gave me some nuts. At dinner I was supposed to eat fish, rice, and mixed vegetables." My eyes close. He doesn't speak for a while. Just watches. Maybe waits for me to turn to dust.

"Phil why didn't you eat your dinner?" I don't answer right away. A butterfly lands outside of the window. It's so small. She loved butterfly's. She loved bumblebees even more. I remember her nickname, the one only he could call her. Bee. The doctor taps his foot. Six more minutes.

"I already had 2,000 calories. I didn't want anymore. I felt sick." His eyes peer at me the way Evans once did. With concern and pity and all things no one wants. I really had felt sick. The dining room is one long table with seven chairs on each side. The nurse sits at the end and watches. Morgan and Alex sit together. They kiss. Every night. Their hands touch and they kiss a warm slow kiss. I look away and try not to remember. I don't know why they're here. I know at some point they fell in love. Like I once did.

"Phil may I remind you that until you once again reach a healthy weight you are on a strict 3,000 calorie diet. You have been a patient here for two weeks now and I'm growing concerned with your lack of progress." The clock ticks slower. Still six minutes. Still six more minutes. The butterfly has already flown away. The cloud never left the sun. My feet scrape against the blue ground.

"We're going to continue with the weekly weigh ins, and until you're back at a healthy weight we will have to insist that you don't skip anymore meals." Weekly weigh ins are common. That's what they told me three years ago. 'It's not as bad as you think' they said. Weekly weigh ins are common. I nod at him. His chair faces away from the windows. Why doesn't he miss the sun?

"Phil, we are here to ensure that you get through this. We can be done for today unless there's something else you wish to discuss?" Four minutes. We have four minutes left. I get up and leave anyway. The blue floor scrapes against my shoes.

The common room is in the hallway. The walls are painted yellow and radiate light. There is laughter drifting through the open door. I walk past. My room is the fifth on the left. There is a door on the wall but it has to stay open. New curtains are on the window. The last ones were ripped while I punched the wall and screamed about his blood. Now you can't see the stars. I'm glad I can't see the stars.

The blanket on my bed is soft against my fingertips. My eyelids close and I try to remember. The color of Lilahs hair, and the sound of Evans laugh. They're replaced with the sound of his choking gasps as he bled out onto the carpet. The fear of not being able to forget holds me down.