I'm a Work in Progress

"What are you doing?" Erik asks me with a hint of worry in his voice.

"Nothing," I replied. "Just throwing some of this away. I wasn't very hungry today."

He didn't even know that I'd skipped breakfast. I ate half of a sandwich for lunch, though! That was a lot for me. For dinner we were having pizza. Does he even know how fatty that is? Nothing but calories. But of course he doesn't care.

He just sits there every night, playing call of duty with a few friends online. Shirtless with a pair of long pajama pants, his blonde hair a disaster and hazel eyes a bloodshot mess from lack of sleep. We'd been here for a semester worth of college, so we were still freshmen. We both attended the University of Washington in Seattle. I want to study Psychology and he wants to study Astronomy. But he still has to get through his core classes for now. I'd graduated two years of college the same day I graduated high school, from a community college right up the road. I kept a steady 3.9, so hard to reach perfection, and was close to certain if be accepted here. They have an excellent Psychology program and he sort of followed where I went. I mean he really does love his field, and wants to pursue it, but he didn't care which school it was.

We'd decided to share an apartment together before we even got here, actually. There wasn't really a question about it. We've been together for so long, now. It doesn't feel like it though. I suppose it's been about 3 years. We started dating in sophomore year. Now here we are, freshmen in college. Who would've though we could make it this far?

Not many people, actually. I don't think anyone else understands why he picked me. I don't honestly, either. I mean, I guess we make a good couple. We're both always trying to outdo each other with the surprises and the fun vacations and the big romantic gestures. But no one really understands. There are so many girls that are so much prettier than me that he could've been with. Yet here he sits, on my floor-our floor-and yells something into the microphone about some A-hole camping the tower. I have to laugh at this because he tells me that I get to much into the game! He's constantly yelling at this person or that person and all I do is jump. But it's okay, I don't mind.

I don't think I have a right to mind, honestly. He's so perfect and I'm so not. I'm quite truly disgusting. 5'4 and weighing in at 128 pounds. Also factor in my skin, far from tan and blotchy and I breakout bad when I sweat. Which is not pretty, trust me. My not brown, but not quite blonde hair does absolutely nothing but hang their limp no matter what I try to do with it, and I don't know why he stays with me.

But he does, and I guess that's what matters right now. I'd do my best to make myself beautiful for him.

"Why so deep in thought, beautiful?" He asked in a nonchalant manner that almost suggested that I was, as he said, beautiful. But I knew better.

"Just thinking about class, love. No need to fret." I threw him a quick smile and finished up the dishes before realizing I was actually exhausted. Not to mention hungry. "I'm going to bed. Join me whenever, just don't wake me up." As I said this I gave him a small kiss on the cheek and walked off to bed.

At least when I was sleeping I couldn't think about how fat I was. Or how hungry.

The next morning when I woke up, he was sprawled out all over the bed. He looked like a disheveled angel the way he was so perfect and innocent, but he sure weighed more than an angel. I shoved his leg off of me, which took some effort I won't lie, and jumped over him onto the floor. Landing with a heavy thud. Feeling bad for the people beneath us, I remembered why I made that awful sound. "I'm so fat." I whispered to myself and groaned internally.

I grudgingly turned and walked to the bathroom where I immediately I turned on the light and hopped on the scale. 127 pounds. Making some progress I suppose. But not nearly enough. I turned around and faced the full length mirror he wanted to put up in here and sighed. It must be nice to look in a mirror and feel happy with yourself. I'd never had that pleasure. Not that I didn't pick up compliments, just that I'd never believed them.

I turned to the shower and turned it on all the way hot. As I was waiting for it to get hot and steamy I brushed my teeth really well and then decided I couldn't put it off any longer. I set down my toothbrush gently and tried my best to face away from the mirrors while taking off my clothes. I end up looking anyway and want to cry when I see it. My body is so disgusting. All you can see through the steamy mirror is the shape. The outline my body makes. The disgusting curve of my stomach outward and my too big chest. My hips are about a mile wide and my arms have fat all over them. Same goes for my legs. Completely disgusted I jump in the shower and let the tears fall while washing my hair. Then let some more fall while washing my body. Then a little bit more while I'm shaving but then I'm forced to stop whenever Erik walks into the bathroom. I make a hideous wailing sound when I cry so I hold back my sobs until I know he's gone to the bathroom and brushed his teeth and left.

When I finally finish taking a shower and dry off I remember that I've forgotten my clothes outside! Then I look on the counter and see that he's brought them to me, without even asking. He's so lovely. I put on the pair of white pants and a grey Beatles shirt tucked in with cute necklace and I'm ready to go. He knows me so well.

I walk out of the bathroom and Erik makes another snide comment about my too-hot showers in a playful manner before scooting up behind me and wrapping his hands around my bulging waist.

"Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?" He asks with genuine curiosity and leans down to give me a kiss on the top of the head. I respond with "I slept well, actually. I feel sort of rested, which is a change! You slept like a baby, like always." As a smile begins to creep into my voice. Feeling his manliness being threatened he replies with a "whaddu ya mean?" And turns a slight shade of pink. I roll my eyes and plant my lips on his. I pull back and say, "It means I find you extremely adorable when you sleep. Deal with it." fully smiling this time. He turns a little darker and bows his head with a big grin on his face and chuckles. I can't help but to smile.

"What do you want for breakfast?" I ask. "We have eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, muffins, and just about everything because you do the shopping." He laughs and then replies "Surprise me!"

I begin to mix the pancake batter and defrost the sausage. I'm making my favorite breakfast meal, although I know that I cannot eat a single bite. My favorite meal has always been breakfast. Ever since I was first born little Sarah Davis, breakfast has been my favorite meal. Everything is so good and so bad for you so it makes sense that I would love it.

I pour the batter into the waffle maker and begin the sausage. When the first waffle is done I pull it out and stick in another. My boy sure does eat a lot! While the second waffle is cooking I cut the first one and then cut the sausage up and mix it with the waffle. When the second one comes out I cut it up and mix it together as well. I pour him a big glass of 2% milk and put some syrup on the waffles and sausage. I used to be completely opposed to mixing food but since the discovery of waffles and sausage and syrup together I've been tempted to explore new things.

I set the plate and glass on the table and call to him that breakfast is ready. A minute later he comes out with once again no shirt, I swear this man is opposed to them, and dripping wet hair. He comes right up to me shakes his hair all over the place and then pulls me in for a tight hug. Laughing he says to me, "I love you, Princess." and then lets me go. Once again I'm smiling and I tell him that breakfast is waiting for him. I grab a banana and a cup of coffee and head to the couch and turn on the news. He frowns at me and points to the seat in front of him. "Aren't you going to eat with me?"

"Sorry," I respond. "I'm not feeling very good this morning and I think fruit might do me good."

In my mind I was just thinking of how to get away with not eating it and finally just threw it away after a few small bites.

"Why'd you do that?" He asks, puzzled. "Like I said," I answered weakly. "I'm not feeling well."