Do not state your political opinion. Do not state your religion. Do not stand up for anything you believe in. Do not speak too loud or too soft. Do not go here. Do not go there. You cannot and will not go to that college. Do not wear those clothes. Do not.
The thing about not being able to do those things I listed above is that those are the things that define you that allow you to be free. If we live in a world that claims to be advanced, that claims to be more accepting, why is it so common to have boundaries, to have limits, to have bans?
I had a best friend. Had.
Did I just think that?
It’s not like she’s gone. We’ve been friends since third grade. We’ve called each other best friends since then too. But then she left to another state and the text messages are spacing out to not months but special events.
Happy new year.
Happy fourth of July.
It’s summer vacation. I’m going to visit. Oh, you’re not there? Okay. Next time then. See you.
I still call her my best friend though.
Then there’s another “best friend”.
Did I just quote that?
Well, I used to see her almost every day after our other friend moved away. We come from two neighboring high schools. We would eat lunch and talk. But then there were no more words to say. So the meetings spaced out to weeks, but I would be the only one speaking. And now it’s senior year, and we say nothing. Continue life like normal. Give each other the title of “best friend”.
What is a companion? Someone there by your side all the time? Someone with you while you travel in life both metaphorically and literally? To me, a companion is a best friend. And I don’t think I have one anymore.
Except him. The guy who I’ve known since birth but split till seventh grade. He’s in the other high school though with my “best friend”. But he tries to talk to me. He tries to snap me out of the subdued silence I’m in. He actually responds to my messages I send him in the middle of the night. He actually asks if I’m okay and asks again even when I say, “I’m fine.”
But I wouldn’t call him my best friend. I’ve reserved that title for two other people. He’s just my best companion in life right now. And I’m thankful for him.
I devised a point system. I searched for some workout I made in freshman year. Said that was +1. Said losing one pound was +2. Gaining one pound was -3. And so on and so forth.
I admit there were doubts. Always.
I remember my legs burning. I remember my uneven breaths. I remember turning on my room’s fan and a portable fan I bought on vacation. I remember needing two or three cups of water for that one freshman workout that took me 10 minutes but 7 minutes in freshman year.
But then I continued.
You can’t do it. It’s impossible. You will not be able to do any of that.
Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.
I sit on the bed at the doctor’s office.
“She’s overweight,” the doctor tells my mother.
(Prompt from The Daily Post! :D)
The pain. It’s physical. It feels like someone is stabbing me in the stomach.
The emotional pain and damage, something done so long ago, is something I could handle, but with this physical pain?
I try to forget it. I try to go to sleep. I try to forget the nausea and stabbing and emotions.
Can’t I live without emotion? Can’t I forget what happened? Forget the pain? Forget the heartache? Forget the tears and sadness? Forget depression?
In junior year of high school, I remember skipping lunch because I hated eating in front of people. I ended up sitting alone – which is completely normal for me, so I had no problem – and I would eat my lunch… sometimes.
Sometimes I would skip and tell my mom, “I forgot”, when in reality, I didn’t (but do be honest, there were times I forgot and headed to the school library automatically).
Then it got to the point I would skip lunch for consecutive days and no longer feel hunger. My excuses? “I don’t like lunchables anymore.” “I forgot.” “I had a test.” “I had a meeting.” “I really wasn’t hungry.” “I had to study.” “I had to do [insert whatever other thing you can think of] instead.”
It didn’t really affect me, but to tell you the truth, my mom’s words always bugged and irritated me: “You’ll get ulcers. That’s not healthy. Rocky, we don’t have money for your hospital bills.”
Don’t have money for your hospital bills – that’s what my mom was thinking of?
September 28, 2016
For the person stressing out more than possible in life,
Calm down. You’re okay.