On Thin Ice

Hanging by a thread

The icy snow was crunching underneath my chunky black boots on the way to work. It was two days later. I decided to climb out of the cave, where I had been curled up in bed, buried in shame and regret. What went wrong? What's wrong with me?

Wind was blowing snow into my face turning it numb. At least this was bearable, I thought, unlike the iciness in the apartment. Gai had grown colder, barely laying his eyes on me. Both of us avoided talking about that night, as if it didn't happen. When my head was too tired and mired, I would entertain with the idea that it only had happened in another dimension, another reality, until the glaring wound reminded me otherwise.

The office appeared especially open today. I plastered a thin smile on. The hasty typing, the pretentious talking on the phone, the empty bantering between the colleagues, all happening around me, yet surreally far away. The bloody world of law, I thought. I was an intern in this law firm, a sheepish young woman inching to get in the door. Yet that thought repelled me, every cell of my body screaming against it.

Maybe that's why Gai couldn't love me? He was so driven, two years out of law school, he was already a senior, handling tricky and weighty cases. I didn't care to be a lawyer. I just cared to be his woman...but he didn't want me.

Feeling the desperation and shame rising inside me, I reached for my phone and started texting "I will cook dinner. Spaghetti? What time are you coming home?" spaghetti was his favourite. Full of greasy affection on the plate.

As soon as I clicked send, the anxiety started to kick in. The endless waiting...Despite trying to distract myself with all the mindless paper pushing, I checked the phone a hundred times, until finally decided to turn it off. It was nearly lunch break. I wondered out to the street.

The snow had stopped. The sun was lurking behind the low hanging grey clouds, undecided, reluctant. I turned on the phone. No msg. I sighed a quiet sigh.

Suddenly remembering I had skipped breakfast, I walked to the food court. I had had my eyes on the buffet place for a while, but had never tried it. Staying slim was paramount, especially for Chinese women. I had struggled with weight since I could remember, always on the chubby side. Hesitantly approaching the food on display with its alluring colour and smell, I could feel my guilt lurking, piercing at me. Forcefully I ignored it. I grabbed a plate, a large one, and joined the queue. My heart pumping, I looked around. No one I knew was in sight.

I ate so much, and so fast, that I didn't notice what exactly went in. I felt like a rebelling child, telling the world to F off. The rush was incredible. I forgot about where I was, the mess I was in, until my stomach started hurting, from the volume of the food. Even that hurt was sickly satisfying. Determinedly I went back for the 4th helping, two freshly fried donuts with fine sugar on. This would be my last, I ordered myself, my stomach bursting.

The whole afternoon felt like eternity. Struggling to sit in the chair with the full tummy, I found excuses to walk around, to the printer, to the staff room, and to the bathroom. I tried to bring the food up, only in vain. Guilt, shame, regret, disgust danced around me, one by one, with a vengeful taunting grin. I tried not to look them in the eyes.

The silver lining of the whole ordeal was that it did distract me. I turned on the phone when I got home. There was a message, "Catching up with the partner over dinner. Don't wait up." He meant the Partner of his firm. That sounded important, I sighed, at least he replied. Before the sense of rejection started to sink in, I reached for a glass of wine.