How Can I Love You If I Can't Love Myself?

-Chapter 5-

tw: implied ED

Noah

I woke up the next morning, my back sore. I looked around, a bit disoriented, and realized it was already pretty light outside. I looked over at my clock.

10:27 AM

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, realizing I was going to be late for school. I panicked by myself for a bit, until I realized that I was, in fact, pretty dumb. It was the weekend.

I let out a long sigh, rubbing eyes and yawning. I slowly shuffled out of bed, taking my time as I walked over to grab some comfortable clothes. I got dressed fairly fast and walked out of my room.

"There you are!" my mom said, walking over to give me a big hug. I watched as a friend she had over walked over as well, a big smile on her face.

"Oh, I remember when you were just an infant," she told me, pinching my cheek. "Your mother has told me so many great things about you! You seem like such a golden child!" She paused for a moment before mumbling, "I wish my kids were like you," with a giant grin on her face.

My mom let out a soft chuckle. "You must be so proud of him," her friend said, setting a hand on my moms shoulder.

"I am," she said softly.

Even though I didn't show it, I felt awesome. It was always nice to have the acceptance of your parents. It was nice to know you were still on the Earth for some reason, whatever it may be.

It was nice to know someone was proud of you even if you didn't feel proud of yourself.

"Oh, Noah, are you hungry?" my mom asked me. "There's donuts on the counter."

"No, I'm fine," I said. "I don't have much of an appetite."

"Are you sure?" she asked me again. "You've been in bed all day and haven't eaten anything yet..."

"I'm fine," I repeated. "I'm not that hungry."

"Not that hungry or not hungry?"

"I'm not hungry."

I then turned and walked back to my room. I could feel my moms eyes burning into my back, but I didn't care.

I wasn't hungry.

I sat down at my desk and pulled my chromebook out, opening it to my assignments that I had to complete before the weekend ended. I worked for about 2 hours, nonstop. It felt nice to have some sort of routine again. It was nice to have order. To have control. That was the thing about weekends, though. There usually was none of that. It was all...free.

Sometimes freedom is a good thing! But when you're a suck-up nerd like me who can't live without a routine, freedom on the weekends is horrible.

Whether it be too much time for nothing or too much time for hanging out with friends, weekends are always dreadful. The weekends are always out to get me and make me lose focus on my work or routine.

It's annoying.

As I turned my attention back ti my work, my mind just started to wander again. I grasped at it, trying to stay focused, but it kept wandering back to something. No, not something. Someone.

I couldn't stop thinking about Cody. He seemed to always have a stupid, tooth-gap smile on his face. He seemed to have no care in the world about what was going on or what others thought of him. I don't know how he did it. I really should've gotten his number...

That sounds weird.

I mean, it's not that I'm not gay. I think I make it pretty obvious. It's always fun to be stereotypical! My voice, my long hair, my painted nails, how I walk (though it's more obvious in my run), and the fact I'm friends with practically only girls besides the guy that always makes highly gay jokes.

Yeah, I think I make it pretty obvious.

Anyways, the point I was trying to make is that I'm not into Cody. I just want his number so I could talk to him every now and then. Izzy and Eva are always busy and Owen's...well, Owen's Owen. I love the big dude, but sometimes I just don't want to talk to him. And even though the three of them are my best friends, none of them really...get my interests. But Cody seems like he could listen to someone talk about their interests all day. And he seems like he'd have similar interests! ...Maybe.

God, I really sound like I like him. Which I don't.

The noise of my creaky, loud-ass door opening made me jump, and I spun around in my chair to see my mom walking in with a plate of food.

"I said I'm not hungry," I grumbled.

"Two hours ago," she responded as she set the plate down on my desk.

"I'm...I'm still not hungry," I told her, pushing the plate away.

It's not that I didn't really want to eat, it was just that, in all honesty, I was scared of losing control. I didn't want to indulge too much in the food. How much I eat is that one thing that I have constant control of all the time, week days or weekends.

If I lose control of that, well...then I don't know what I'd do.

"Noah, I'm worried about you," my mom spoke up again, breaking me away from my thoughts. "You need to eat."

"No, I don't," I said calmly. "I'm fine, really. I'll eat later."

She eyes me cautiously, but then sighed. "Alright." She turned around and left, leaving the plate of food on my desk. I stared at it for a long while.

I hope the weekend doesn't feel too long.

964 words sorry for the shorter chapter