The Perfect Girl

43

"It's sudden, the change,                                                                                                                                                                    She's broken out of her own cage,"

I remember a few days after that, things really began to morphe.  It was a strange sensation, because in a way I felt as if I were watching it from an objective eye, like I was reading the book that was my life.

I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, when firm, sturdy arms wrapped around my body.  I could feel Khalid's face, warm against my neck.  I shivered at the contact anyway.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Do you need help?" he murmured into my skin.

"Well, technically you're supposed to be doing this," I teased.

"I know," he mumbled guiltily, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," I said, "I don't mind." a pause, then, "Are you okay?  You seemed really tired after work today.  Like, more than usual."

"Yeah," he said, "I'm okay.  It's just work and..."

"What?"

"I've been meaning to talk to Abu and Ami about my art," he admitted, "And I keep trying, but every time I start, I just can't do it."

I dried my hands before leaning back on him, placing my hands over his. 

"We'll invite them over this weekend, inshallah," I suggested, "And then you can just, like, casually bring it up in conversation."

He exhaled, "It's scary, sweetheart."

"I'll be there to protect you," I smiled, "I'll make sure no one throws a chapal at you, I promise." (slipper)

"Thank you." he sighed.

I turned around, still in his arms, traced a finger along his jaw.  He turned his head to kiss my palm, leaned his head against it.  

"You'll be okay, inshallah." 

"Yeah," he whispered, closing his eyes.

He pulled me closer to him, rested his head on top of mine.

I realized, suddenly, that when he was around me like this, my body suddenly felt like it was worth something. I realized that being held by Khalid made me forget how much I hated my body.  And I realized that that was not any sort of achievement.

I felt a sort of anger, if anything.  

Feeling good about myself when Khalid was there to help me didn't mean I was actually confident, it just meant I trusted Khalid enough to believe that he was confident in me.  I believed he saw me as beautiful, so, when I was around him, I felt beautiful.  

He distracted me from my thoughts, from the mess, the bully that was my own mind.  

"Love?" Khalid said, snapping me back into reality.

"Yeah?"

"Where did you go?"

"I was just thinking."

"About?"

I rolled my eyes, "There's a reason I wasn't speaking aloud."

"Sometimes I wish I could get inside your head," he mumbled, "You're so secretive." 

"Huh?" I said in surprise, "No, I'm not!"

"Sure, love." he was quiet a moment, then, "But seriously, sweetheart, I'm concerned."

"What?  Why?"

"I don't know.  You aren't being yourself." he bit his lip, "You've been really-- like-- insecure, I guess."

I could have sworn that my heart actually stopped for a moment.  The question was so unexpected, so straightforward.

But then, so was everything about Khalid.  He was so honest, so raw, and it was both endearing and frightening.

"I think I'm getting better," I shrugged.

"But why?  Why are you always so hard on yourself?"

I walked away from him, towards the couch.

"Where are you going?"

I patted the seat next to me on the couch, "I'm tired of standing."

He came and sat down, then said, "So?  Why?"

I sighed.  I'd been hoping I could shrug off the question.

"I don't know.  I just... I don't love my body, I guess.  It's not what it's supposed to be."

"Sweetheart, sometimes it seems as though that's all you think about," he said gently, "I'm scared for you.  I get that everyone gets a little insecure now and then, but you can't be there all the time."

"I know," I whispered, voice suddenly breaking, "I guess I just feel so ugly sometimes."

"Please don't say that," he said.

Suddenly, fury took hold of my body.

"That's not how it works, Khalid," I said in frustration, "I can't just turn off my insecurities because you say to.  The reason I don't talk to people is exactly this!  They tell me not to say it, not to tell them I hate myself, but what's the point of not saying it if I'm thinking it anyway?  It isn't a good thing for me, it just makes me want to burst.  You want to hear about my insecurities?  Let's talk about them.  Let's talk about how it feels to look myself in the mirror and want to rip my skin away.  Let's talk about what it's like to hate feeling full, because it feels like I forfeited control.  Let's talk about how being hungry makes me feel like I'm in charge, like I can decide how my body looks.  Let's talk about what it's like to want affection so badly and feel like people are only giving it to you because of obligation.  Let's talk about feeling like you're never enough.  Let's talk about feeling like I want to die, because dying is the only way to escape all the mistakes I've already made."

By the time I reached the end of this outburst, my shoulders were shaking, and I was broken.  I felt like I had just exhaled after holding my breath for years.  

Khalid just put his arms around me, held me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."