I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes travelling down the length of my body; taking in every little detail.
Fat.
'Tess? Are you in there?' Dan calls out.
I jump. 'Yeah'.
'Lunch is ready' he says through the door.
No. Don't eat. Don't give in. You're stronger than that.
'Okay' I reply, stepping onto the scales. 'I'll be out in a moment'.
101.00 pounds.
Too heavy.
Way too heavy.
I pull on my clothes and exit the bathroom. I see Dan standing at the cooker, a plate in his hand. He holds it out to me and I reluctantly take it. I sit at the table and stare at the delicious, no, disgusting food in front of me. My stomach rumbles, no, churns. I push the food around my plate with my fork, separating it.
'Come on Tess' Dan says. 'You have to eat something'.
'I'm really not that hungry' I lie. I'm so hungry I could gnaw off my whole hand No, I'm strong. I'm empty. Empty is good. 'Anyway, I ate earlier'.
Dan looks dubious. 'Did you?'
'Yeah' I nod, pushing my plate of food away from me.
'What did you eat?' he presses me.
'A bagel' I reply.
'So if I went into the cupboard, there wouldn't be a bagel there?'
'Nope' I say, shaking my head. Because there isn't a bagel there. But I didn't eat it. It's in the bin. Where it belongs. I feel slightly guilty for wasting good, no, disgusting, food but I'd feel a lot guiltier if I actually ate the damned thing. 330 calories. 330 unneeded calories.
'I don't believe you' Dan says, looking straight at me.
'Fine. Don't then' I say curtly. 'I'm going for a run now' I stand up and take my plate with the uneaten food over to the waste disposal sink and tip it down. I head to my room and pull on a pair of blue running shorts and a dry-fit vest. I stare at my flabby arms, my fat stomach, and the fat overhanging the waist band of my shorts.
'You've lost weight' Dan says accusingly when I bend over to tie my laces on my running shoes.
Good. 'No, I haven't' I reply, standing up straight again.
Dan sighs heavily. 'We need to talk when you get back'.
'Whatever' I snap before heading out.
My feet thud against the tarmac in a steady pattern, my breath laboured. My mind now completely blank. I don't think about my appearance, I don't think about my weight. All I think about is putting one foot in front of the other, running until the sun begins to go down.
I push open the apartment door, drenched in sweat, my legs shaking. I hurry to the bathroom and shred my clothes bore stepping on the scale again.
100.94 pounds.
Still too heavy.
I leap into the shower and drench my body in hot water, washing away the dried sweat. A few minutes later, I jump out again and wrap my fat body in a white towel.
I shove on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
My upper arms are still too fat. My thighs are still too large.
Everything about me is disgusting.
I pad into the living room to find Dan sitting down on the leather sofa. He looks up as I walk in. I sit down next to him wordlessly and rest my head on his shoulder, my arm across his stomach.
'Like I said earlier, we need to talk' Dan says suddenly, breaking the silence.
I turn to face him. 'About what?'
'About you, Tess' he says gently. 'I feel like I'm losing you'.
I frown. 'Huh?'
'Not mentally, but physically. You're wasting away' he says softly, holding my wrist. His thumb easily reaches his pinky finger. 'Why are you doing this to yourself?'
'That's Tess, my girlfriend' he says pointing to me as I stand awkwardly in the corner, a few meters away from you and your friends.
They look me up and down, they begin to smirk. I feel ashamed.
'She's… curvy' one says quietly.
Curvy. Another word for fat.
F a t.
'I'm not doing anything to myself, Dan' I reply quietly.
'Tess, you're disappearing'.
'I'm not' I whisper. 'I'm not'.
'You are Tess, you really are. I hate it when you don't eat anything for days on end. I hate it when you run for hours, burning off those calories you didn't even eat. I hate it when you push me away. I want to help you Tess'.
'I hate it too' I whisper. 'But I can't stop'.
'You don't want to stop'.