I’ll Never Go Back To Who I Used to Be (I don’t need to be hurting to be loved)
Get Up.
My eyelids float open. Im on a bed, sinking in its softness, it takes me a moment to realize its L’s. My mouth is dry and sour, my head foggy.
Up! Its time to get up.
L moves to the window and jerks up the blinds.
Good morning to you too. I grumbl rolling over and under a pillow.
Its not morning its 1 o clock. Time for breakfast.
Babe, I’m not hungry,
No way. You havent had a good meal all weekend. You’re withering away.
No I’m not. I roll to face L, still storming around the room. Did you not watch me muck all that popcorn at 6 AM this morning?
L rolls his eyes. Yeah lots of nutrients there.
Maybe not but like its still food. Still calories.
Is that how you think of food?
Sometimes. I guess. I don’t know.
You need real food. You’re withering away.
I’m not. I will have real food. But right now I’m hungover. Let me be alive first for a bit.
Well I’m starving. I need to eat. What do you want?
What do you want?
Tim’s?
Yeah, want me to come?
I start to get out of bed. I’m still in a leotard and grey skirt from last night, remnants of my mouse costume. “Oh..wait… I don’t think I have other clothes here…” I guess I could just be a mouse again?”
“No don’t do that. Just stay here. I’ll go. What do you want from Tims.”
“Coffee.”
“Just a coffee?” L raises an eyebrow.
“For now... I’ll eat. I just need to feel better first.”
“You’d feel better if youe eat.” L calls out, grabbing his keys and heading out of the room.
I close my eyes, my heart pounding almost as loudly as my head.
Where the hell is this coming from? The beautiful thing about being with L these past few months is how easy and free everything has been. I’ve had no hesitancies eating in front of him. We’ve gone for spontaneous ice creams, late night snacks, and its a running joke that I will always steal his fries.
The one morning I say I am not hungry and all of a sudden “i’m withering away.” Not even that he said it, but how he said it. The way he was storming around the room, but not really looking at me. The accusing tone. The coldness. Its left me here body numb and brain racing, the same way I felt when my last partner accused me of the same things in the last year of our relationship.
But it made sense then. I wasnt eating enough. I wasn’t eating a giant bag of popcorn as a drunken early morning snack, and then refusing breakfast. I was skipping dinner, drinking myself sick, and waking up with nothing but a stomach of bile and vodka.
I was struggling. Everything I ate felt like too much. And I hated eating when I was with him because the feelings of guilt or shame that followed it always put a pin in my ability to be in he moment and feel happy when I was with him. But of course, he was very much aware of my anorexia, so every sign of it, of me not eating enough or moving too much, caused him to be unable to be present of enjoy the moment with me. And that’s why our relationship didn’t make it another year.
But I don’t do that anymore. I like eating now. Why else would I have let myself eat all that popcorn as the sun was rising? Was it an early breakfast? A very late night snack? The fuck knows? Never in my life have I eaten anything at that hour. And despite the voice of guilt telling me I shouldnt be, it kind of made it feel almost more glorious, being liberated enough after years of rigid rules and restrictions to shovel my favourite snack in my mouth at an ungodly hour. I also silenced that guilty voice by telling it we would call it breakfast.
Problem solved, I thought.
But apparently L didn’t consider popcorn breakfast.
I’m awake now, starting to feel restless. I’m groggy, but I can’t be tired. I do the math and after sleeping five hours in the car overnight, one hour on the road, and four hours in this bed, I’ve gotten 11 hours.
Its getting close to 2. Am I hungry? My stomach isn bloated, but its not flat either. I can still feel the fibrous snack digesting, No, I am not hungry. I was starving this morning.
Of course I was. I didn’t eat much for dinner other than a few small snacks while L had four slices of pizza.
Which also explains why I ended up crashing into a drunken mess just after midnight while the party was still going on.
I want to shake this feeling and feel good again for when L is back. I swing my legs off the bed, thinking i’ll go for a walk. And then I remember my bag of clothes, and my shoes are in the car, which is currently at a Tim’s drive through. Although what time is it? L left close to an hour ago. Shouldnt he be back right now?
I fumble my way to the bathroom, take my time washing my face, brush my teeth and feel a little more human than a mixing bowl of tequila and popcorn.
I’m scrolling on my phone back in bed hoping L will be back to save me from my anxiety spiral before my phone dies. Click. Slam. Footsteps switly across the tile.
I wait for him to come upstairs. But his footsteps grow fainter. He’s making his way to the kitchen. I find a shirt of his to wear that while I wouldnt go for a walk around the neighbourhood in it, is at least keeping enough of me and my little mouse costume covered if anyone else is around the house today.
I head downstairs and into the kitchen. I feel like I am walking on eggshells, like I am a puppy who chewed up something and is just waiting to be reprimanded. Why do I feel like this? I try to shake it? I’ve done nothing wrong. I didnt eat as much as I should have or could have. That doesnt mean I did something horrifically wrong.
Youre up. L is standing at the island, a paper bag from Farmboy and a spread of all kinds of things around him. I’m making avocado toast. I take in the loaf of artisan walnut bread, the 2 ripe avocados, the packet of sunflower sprouts.
You said you werent hungry, so I am only making you one piece. He says, slatehring bright green avocado on a small slice of bread right out of the toaster. I’ll make you more if you want it.
“Thank you.” I smile at home. “Thats really sweet.” My heart is melting. He’s not mad. He literally went out to buy ingredients to make me a bougie vegan breakfast,
I’m still not hungry, and even mentally, I dont really want anything to do with food. But I know he did all of this out of love, and I do not want to refuse it.
One’s fine for now. It looks delicious.
There’s soup too. He adds, pointing at a container of bright orange creamy liquid. Its coconut curry soup. Vegan. For you.
I touch his arm, kiss his cheek. He doesnt move away, but he doesnt stop what hes doing either (picking sprouts out to place on top of the toasts).
That’s your coffee. He nods at the very large Tim’s cup on the counter. I wasnty sure if you wanted one oat milk or two. I went with two. I hope that’s okay.
Its perfect. Thank you.
I take my coffee, and the small plate he offers me. He grabs his with 2 big pieces on it and I follow him into the other room sitting next to him on the couch.
The toast looks lovely. Crusty fresh walnut bread, heaped with fresh avocado, drizzled with what looks like balsamic reduction, dotted by what can only be everything basil seasoning. And of course a mountain of sprouts. It almost looks too good to eat.
I start by sipping my coffee. Maybe that will at least spark my appetite.
L is inhaling his second piece, I notice him glance at my plate. I refuse to let him think that I am anything like I used to be. The disordered girl I have only ever mentioned as something from the past.
I take a bite. I’m still not hungry, and it feels like I could probably go another few hours at least before any hunger actually kicked in, but at least it tastes good. I eat the whole piece, even going back to add a few more sprouts,
Thanks baby. That was actually really good.
Good. Do you want more?
No one is good… I see the bowl of soup he has beside him. Do you mind if i try a little of the soup though?
Of course. Its yours. I bought it for you,
Thank you. I whisper.
I get a bowl. We sit on the couch in silence, and I continue to eat. I am reminding myself that we eat for reasons much beyond hunger. Right now I am not physically hungry, but I am accepting this gift, this offer of love and connection L has put before me. And the fact I can do that feels really good.
