The Only Ugly Thing About This Breakup is Me

14

It's amazing how motivated I get when I start to exercise.

I'm the biggest procrastinator; with everything. From homework to taking baths to even brushing my teeth before I go to bed.

But exercising? Wow. Once I had a goal in mind, I could literally go for miles without stopping to catch my breath or convince myself that this was a good idea.

During the summer of Mellie Belly, I motivated myself by comparing myself to the other girls at the pool party. I compared myself to girls everywhere who could wear bikinis and not have to worry about their thighs touching or their stomachs having folds and their arms jiggling.

I compared myself to Heather Thompson. In her light blue tankini and how confident she was when she walked around the pool and all that stuff.

I compared myself to Jasmine, who didn't give a fuck about what she looked like, because she was gorgeous enough to get away with anything.

Then I motivated myself to lose weight again because of Jasper. Because he deserved better. His face shouldn't have been wasted standing next to a walrus like me. So I forced myself to lose weight. To look good for Jasper. To be worth it.

But now that Jasper was out of the fucking picture, I motivated myself to lose weight for myself.

I wanted to be as thin as I had wanted to be when I was six and watching a prima ballerina jumping in the air with her dainty legs that were strong with muscles but never touching.

I wanted to be as thin as I had wanted to be when I was nine and had to buy from the teens sections because jeans in the juniors department couldn't fit me.

I wanted to be as thin as I had wanted to be when I started going to pool parties with my fifth grade friends and having had to hide my stomach and my boobs while they walked around with their belly buttons showing and their twig arms up in the air as they jumped into the pool while I slowly walked down the steps of the pool because I knew I'd make the biggest splash if I jumped.

I wanted to be as thin as I had wanted to be when I went to buy swimsuits with Jasmine. I wanted to buy this cute little striped swimsuit that looked like a one piece in the front but a bikini at the back but I just knew it would look ugly as fuck on me so I looked at the boring one-piece swimsuits that took only one corner of the whole department.

I wanted to be as thin as I had wanted to be when I looked at the mirror and hated what I saw. I hated my arms. And my thighs. And my stomach. And my fucking wrists.

So I was running now. It was too early for the winter sun to make its' appearance, but I could still see the shapes of the things around me. I was running my usual route anyway, and it was familiar enough for me to know where the dips in the road were.

I ran past houses and parks and more houses until I got to the edge of town. Six months ago, I would have turned around from here to get back home. But I was stronger now, and even though it felt like inhaling ice whenever I breathed, I forced my legs to keep moving.

I ran towards the potato fields of Dullerton, even though I had no idea where the hell I was going. Dullerton was quiet, and it felt wrong to destroy the still, sweet peace with every step that I took and every thump of my heart.

I had only ever been here once, and that was on my first date ever.

But, fuck, it was with Jasper.

And fuck...it was all fake.

As if my body was reacting to Jasper's name, I suddenly ran as fast as I could. Running made me forget, so I ran and I ran until I couldn't taste the bitterness in my mouth when his name popped into my brain.

It was all fake.

Fuck.

No, I told myself. You're running. Forget about him.

Fuck.

I was crying. My wet cheeks were cold because of the air and fuck, I needed to stop crying.

I couldn't breathe. What felt like ice earlier now felt like knives stabbing my lungs. But I still pushed myself. I turned back around and hoped I was going the right direction back home.

I pumped my legs faster and I tried to regulate my breathing but fuck, it was so hard. My legs felt like jelly. Time seemed to be slowing down.

I seemed to be slowing down.

There was a bitter taste in my mouth, and I couldn't breathe, and before I knew it, I got down on my knees and started retching.

I couldn't vomit anything out, because all I had eaten last night were saltine crackers, and I hadn't eaten my breakfast yet.

So I was heaving out nothing, and my lungs were being stabbed with every breath and my throat was dry and I was crying and fuck.

I only read about pushing yourself so far to start retching. I didn't know I could even get to that point.

I kept coughing and my head hurt and I was crying and I felt so weak.

When did I get so weak? I had never cried this much before and upon realising that, I started cried some more.

I hated this.

I hated crying.

I hated this town.

I hated the fact that my parents didn't have time for me anymore.

I hated that I wanted their attention.

I hated that I wish I were a kid again so they had more time with me.

I hated their job.

I hated that we moved for their job.

I hated that we moved to Dullston for their job.

I hated Dullston and everyone in it.

Especially...

I wasn't even going to think his name. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of me still pining over him.

Geez, I was pathetic.

And yet, there I was. Still on my knees, trying so hard to breathe, crying.

I was pathetic.

And I hated it.

I hated this so much.

I hated me.