It was that weird phase where, having a brother just come from a successful movie, everyone wanted to know him.
Ensconced in my rental, I only heard about it; my mind was focused on the races ahead, the training, the gym which at long last I had taken that step into the pool.
It was horrid, at first; and then by doing laps, that third turn of the head to gulp air, and I imagined the photo gallery outside the red carpet snapping pictures.
More than the laps which made my arms ache, I took it a step further. I took it on pride that I did not need any push other than myself to climb the tall ladder which led past the diving board for kids, and up towards where from a dizzying height I could see rippling blue and the people like ants below.
Now they were looking, if they were not already. I figured if I could walk a red carpet at a movie premiere, I could leap off this edge. If the scars on my legs were any indication, there was one conclusion to taking a further step which should reasonably be an objective.
But I had not tried this hard to give it all up now, or to throw in the towel.
There was only one option, and time fell as fast as I did, and then there was only blue and a pounding as waves threatened me whole. And because I wanted to live, I swam to the surface, determined not to let anything keep me down.
It was the loneliness, which got me in the end.
When I visited my parents, it was to all my brother's friends that I avoided; sitting in my old room which was now a spare room, and occasional crafts corner. If it was dark enough, I could stand outside and pretend it was the post-premiere wrap party.
If someone wandered over, I imagined the baring of their teeth, their eyes going where I pulled down my sweat shirt, and I flooded. I just could not stand it. If any word was said I would cry.
I didn't care about being sensitive if I could cycle home and cry.
When I laid in my bed, and felt more alone for isolating myself, that was when the packet of biscuits in my cupboard, untouched to remind me not to fall into temptation, became opened.
And then, and then - a food coma - and when I could barely move, I thought of all my progress, and cried in the shower, forcing the water hot enough to scald.
It was my younger brother's girlfriend who broke the news.
She came to my place, and I cleared her a seat, and she glanced around and told me her boyfriend would be filming a show, and was I interested.
Naturally, she had to ask, and obviously, my answer was put forth. I had offered snacks to her while we talked, but while she talked, this gave opportunity for me to begin eating. She almost didn't notice until I spilled crumbs.
"Can I have one or two?" she smiled, taking slow bites and not even finishing the biscuit in one. "You know, it's not that bad. You can come film for a bit then go home."
"Is my uncle in it?" I asked, and she nodded.
I folded my arms, and she stared for a long while. Finally, she said, "You know, it's only your attitude that puts people off from talking to you in the first place."
I was only furious she didn't care enough to tell me to watch what I was eating.