This chapter is kinda iffy because I didn't have much of an idea for it, so bear with me😩
Smith
The second I got home, all my happiness vanished.
It seems as if a switch flipped when I walked through the door. My entire body and mind shut down. The warm, fuzzy feelings I've been experiencing for days disappeared and replaced themselves with anxiety and dread.
As I briefly spoke to my parents, I could hardly look them in the eyes. I mean, how could I? I spent my entire night kissing a boy and they have no idea. At least I hope not.
Can they smell the sin on me? What if they ask? Would they ask? Should I lie? Would they catch me if I lie?
My anxiety turns my stomach into a knot, and the pressure on my stomach reminds me of something. It reminds me that I more than likely gained a million pounds on the trip and I am in dire need of checking.
The moment my parents stop talking to me after dinner, I go straight to my bathroom. Hastily, I pull out the scale from under the sink and throw my clothes onto the floor. It's not like having them on would make much of a difference. No clothes can't hide the fact that I gained a dozen pounds within a week.
As I step on the device, numbers float around my head. I begin to envision the pounds I gained flashing across the scale. As the number rises, my heart sinks. How in the hell did I gain so much in a week?
I stare at the scale, feeling absolutely digested with myself. Physical sickness hits me like a brick, causing my dinner to rise in my throat.
I'm so disgusting. I'm so disgusting. I'm so disgusting.
For what feels like hours, I am over the toilet, gagging and crying at how revolted I am with myself. Thinking about how huge I am extends the sickness in my stomach and mind.
I'm not sure how long it takes me to pull myself off the floor and recheck my weight. Though the number is lowered due to the disposing of my dinner, I don't feel much better.
This damn trip ruined all my progress. I spent so many hours starving, walking, crying, and torturing myself just to gain everything and more back in 5 days. Why does my body hate me? Why did I eat so much? Why didn't I find more ways to purge or make excuses?
Eventually, I leave the bathroom and crawl into my bed that I missed oh so dearly. However, it feels strange to me. Why? Because Diego isn't next to me. I've grown used to having his presence in bed, and now it's gone.
I check my phone, frowning at the lack of notifications. Is he upset with he? Why isn't he texting back? Did I say something wrong? Is he reflecting on everything that happened and now hates me? Did he notice the weight I gained?
As I watch the documentary, my thoughts quiet down, but not by much. The same handful of thoughts revolve around my mind and refuse to leave. It's like a never ending recording that I can't stop. Why can't I stop it?
I'm so sick of myself. I'm so sick of my mind. I'm so sick of my body. I'm so sick of hating myself. I'm so sick of everything. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I can't do thi-
My thoughts come to a temporary halt as my phone vibrates.
Diego- I'm sorry for taking a while. I was helping Mateo unpack and we started playing with Legos.
9:18 pm
Should I wait to reply? He didn't text me for 2 hours, so maybe I should wait 5 minutes so I don't seem desperate. No, I can't wait. I can't go another second without texting him.
