Playing With Fire || d.h

32. Dancing for Dummies

Your POV

"We need to talk."

I'm sitting in Dan and Phil's apartment, Dodie sitting on the floor right next to Phil. Phil has resorted to sitting on the floor, as it's easier than sitting on the couch for him. Dan comes up behind me as I sit scrolling through my phone on the loveseat. I turn quickly to see Dan leaning on the back of the seat, his face inches from mine, then look at Dodie and Phil. They're both deep in conversation, paying no attention to Dan or I, so I quickly stand up, and we head to his room.

"What's up?" I ask, defensively crossing my arms over my chest as he closes the door behind him. He sticks his hands in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth nervously.

"What's...what's going on with you?" He asks.

"Um...that's kind of a pretty vague statement," I reply, giving a nervous laugh.

"You know what I mean. You haven't been yourself lately." He sighs, as if preparing himself for what he's about to say. "You self-harmed, you haven't eaten, you don't talk to me anymore. Just talk to me. Please."

"Dan..." I sigh, giving him a childish look as if to say please, don't make me. However, his eyes dig into mine, and I decide there's no getting out of this.

"I...I don't know how to explain it. I, I was numb, I guess. It just comes out of nowhere, sometimes. There's no reason behind it, there's no way to get rid of it. And when I'm numb, I'll do anything I can to start feeling again."

"I'll eat, because feeling full is better than feeling nothing at all. Then, I'll feel extremely guilty, and restrict for weeks. Restricting is addicting, and once I start, it's nearly impossible to stop." The words fall out of my mouth like a rush of water. "Once I get to that point, there's only one way to...feel. And...you already know what that is." I look down at my feet, horrendously embarrassed. I realize I just exposed my deepest, darkest habits without even thinking.

I'm petrified to look into Dan's eyes, hoping to God if I do, there won't be pity, or solace. However, when I finally get the nerve to make eye contact, I can't read his poker face. Yet it feels like he's able to see right through me, making me a whole lot more vulnerable than I'm comfortable with.

"I don't...I don't know what to say," he breathes, slightly shaking his head.

"Most people don't," I breathe monotonously.

"What do you need from me?" He asks.

"What? No, I...I don't need-"

Dan interrupts me. "Don't start with that crap," he affirms in a demanding tone, catching me off guard. "I can't just sit by and do nothing while you're suffering. I can't watch you hurt; it tears me apart." His tone, along with his expression, nearly breaks my heart.

I huff frustratedly. How can he understand that I can't unload my burden onto him? That I've never confided to anyone about these things, because it's just not the kind of person I am? How can I explain to him that it's better for him to just not know?

"You don't understand," I basically whine. "You don't...need this."

"Need what?" He asks frustratedly. "'To deal with you?' You're not just a problem, you're a person, a person who I care about!"

I puff, understanding I'm not gonna get through to him. "I just need...I want you to understand that I'm not...like everyone else. I just don't want you to get sick of me," I mutter almost silently.

Dan only shakes his head in disbelief. "How can anyone ever get sick of you?"

I chuckle darkly. "Oh, trust me, it's not very hard."