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chapter 18

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me, you showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else ~TS, illicit affairs

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I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the sight in front of me. 

Tan skin. Small chest. Long legs. Narrow waist. Slightly toned stomach. Slender face. 

But the longer I look... 

Arm fat. Bloated stomach. Love handles. Thunder thighs. 

And before I know it, the image I saw when I first approached the mirror is gone. Replaced by all my insecurities becoming more noticeable, until they're all I can see. And I know it's not real. I know that my body is what I want it to be. But my brain tricks me into seeing and exaggerating  flaws that aren't there. 

Body dysmorphia is something that I've always struggled with. And for a while, it came close to destroying me. I became obsessed with the number on the scale. How toned my stomach and legs were. How small my figure was. How flat my stomach was. 

Eventually I realized that I wasn't being fair to myself or to my body. But the insecurity still lingers sometimes. But I really have no reason to be insecure. I do have a nice body. I'm slender and toned and tan. I even model occasionally to earn some cash that's just mine. But I would never do it professionally. I don't think I could handle it.

The bikini I'm trying on right now fits fine. I look fine. I'm just nervous about spending my whole night in just a bikini. I'm afraid my insecurities will get the best of me and I won't be able to have fun Saturday. 

There's a party in two days that a girl at Manchester is throwing. It's a night swim/ bonfire type thing, so most people will show up in swimsuits. I guess I don't have to, but I don't know what else I would wear. I think I'll just keep my cover up on all night. I'll make sure it's stylish. 

I take off the bikini and change into a hoodie and pajama shorts. I leave my closet and grab my book from my bedside table and head over to the window. Propping it open, I climb out onto the roof and situate myself in the little nook to the right of my window and turn on the dimmed fairy lights that outline the spot. 

This is my favorite little spot. It's right outside my window and it looks out over my backyard and farther out towards the trees. This is where I go to think, read, cry, calm down, or just relax. Sometimes just laying back and watching the stars is all I need. 

From this spot, the sky stretches out above me, full of stars, and sometimes clouds, or a bright, pale moon. I open my book and use the light from the fairy lights to light the pages. I try to read, but my mind just won't allow me to focus. I shut the book and lay back with a sigh. 

This week has been miserable. Luke's barely spoken two words to me. He doesn't walk with me to class or even make eye contact with me in the halls. It's pretty impressive how he can still manage to ignore me while we're doing partner work for our project in history. I don't understand why he's so mad. Whatever his feelings are towards the incident with Max, it's obvious there's nothing going on, so why is he still upset. 

I've asked him what was wrong and he just shrugged and said it was nothing. I just, I don't like it. It feels weird not to hear his playful comments or have one of his smirks directed at me. I hate to admit it but, I miss him. And I don't know what to do about it. 

The only thing keeping from shaking him and yelling for him to get over it, is the thought that maybe he's not upset at all. Maybe he just doesn't want to be friends with me. Maybe he's just taking a step back because he doesn't want to be close with me. And I hate that thought the most.