Fragile

39. Eating

*A week forward*

If there is anything feeling impossible in this world, this is it. Eating like a normal person.

God damn why did nobody tell me that after almost five months of starvation and binging and hunger, food would be so... difficult.

It's really a love-hate relationship.

"Come on you can do it." Fox encourages me to take a bite of a bread. I was still stuck at the hospital, even though tomorrow morning I'd finally get out. And that was only because I promised to eat.

Yes, I had made my difficult decision between recovery and my old normal.

My feeding tube had stayed on until this morning, which I was more than happy. It left an uneasy feeling on my nose and throat, tickling and sort of itching.

"Please Liv, you're making me worry again." Fox pleads me and I finally take a bite. It's awkward, and difficult and painful. And to be honest, all I want to do is run to the bathroom to get my fingers down my throat and throw up every crumb of calorie I intake.

Which I of course don't do anymore. And I sort of hate it.

I take another bite of my cheese and ham sandwich, twenty calories down.

As I finish the full breakfast, which is even surprising to me, for the first time in a long while I feel full.

"This is like another method of torture." I whisper to Fox who was skipping school to see me. He did this every morning and refused to leave before I ate even a little bit of my breakfast.

"You're doing so well." He strokes my hair and I lean into his touch. "So is the therapy working?"

I had been forced into therapy since last week. "Yeah, it's okay." I lie, because he shouldn't know that I hated going there more than anything else. I'd been there for one time and at first I tried to give it a shot, really, but to be brutally honest I hate talking about feelings and that stuff. I don't want to talk. I hate it.
And today I was supposed to go there again.

"That's really good." Fox smiles at me, not noticing my lie.

"Bellemonte, I see you finished your breakfast." My doctor walks into the room.

"Good eyesight." I tell her, something about that woman just irritated my nerves with no proper explanation.

She sighs before pressing a hand onto Fox's shoulder and signalling it was his time to leave.

"It's fine, you coming after school today?" I ask as he gets up.

"Of course. Love you." He gives me a gentle kiss and then walks out of the room closing the door after.

"Well?" I ask rudely because I would have merely enjoyed more Fox and me time.

"Young lady I don't enjoy the attitude, I'm just trying to help you." She says but gives up as I only roll my eyes.

"I just want to leave." I say.

"About that, I think that if the therapy session goes well today, you could potentially get home early, this evening even."

"Wait, really? That's amazing!" I smile for the first time at her.

"But we need to discuss some matters before. Very serious matters. And for the next four months, I need you to come regularly for checkups every two weeks. We check your weight and other health issues you might develop-"

I cut her off, "What does that mean?"

"This might be hard to hear, but sometimes the ones suffering long time from anorexia might not survive recovery. Their hearts are damaged as well as brains from not getting enough nutrients. There is no 100% confirmation that you will survive."