Saving Him • editing/rewriting

twenty three-time to break up

"if you want to call it a heartache, why don't you take back those things, i miss her. if you want the pain to go away better suck up your pride, admit you lost her. let her go."
~All Time Low

Chapter Twenty Three- Time to Break Up

Tom's POV

Today, I had planned the perfect first date for Katie and I. I explained the situation to my mum so she allowed me to have the whole house to myself for the day and she also promised to get my annoying little siblings out of our hair as well. Don't get me wrong, I loved them with all my heart but they could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Katie had told us the other day that she finally made up with her mum and she couldn't be happier. She said that her mum now came home just in time to have dinner together and spend family time afterwards. I was glad for her.

What I had planned for the day was first off, a home theatre with my special popcorn. I had set up a huge white screen against the wall in the living room and put a projector above it so that we could have a movie marathon. She would choose the movies of course.

After that, which would take up a few hours, we would make homemade pizza (because who doesn't love making their own pizza) and eat it outside in the backyard where I have already set up the fairy lights around the trees and laid the blanket down with tons of pillows. After we finished eating, I would ask her to dance with me and we'd have our own party. Also, I was hoping to end the night with a bit of kissing but I would have to be on my best behaviour.

Yeah, as you can tell already that Katie turns me into this sappy, romantic little boy who spends hours planning the perfect date for her. But I surprisingly didn't mind. She was the most amazing girl I had ever met. She surpassed all my expectations the second she laughed at my lame attempt at a joke that day at group therapy when I told everyone that the emotion I was feeling was hungry. I know, dark humour.

Four years ago, while I was still a pre-pubescent year seven, I was interested in soccer. And I mean really interested. As were most all the other boys my age.

We formed our own group for soccer and trained every lunch by kicking the ball around and playing each other. But as we grew older, the others got exceptionally better and what with all the working out we did everyday, their bodies became more defined. But me on the other hand, my body figure never really changed. I was a little chubby for my age but I wasn't unfit. It just ran in the family. I was naturally that way. It didn't bother me much while I was still a year eight.

Then year nine came rolling along and that's when it really hit me that I was different from the others. That I wasn't good enough. I noticed that all the other guys had defined six packs and toned muscles on their arms and legs. They looked fit. They looked professional. And no matter how hard I tried to be the same as them, it never worked. I did exactly what the others did. Trained the same amount, ate exactly what they ate but nothing. They all tried their best to help me out but it seemed to be no use. I always had a bit of that chubbiness.

About half way through the year, I felt so fustrated and angry at myself that I stopped eating. I thought that that was the only way to get all the extra fat off. I got excited because I fianally found a new method that could potentially work.

I trained and trained every day. Sit ups, push ups, star jumps, jogging, sprinting. And on top of that, I played hour long games at school and two hour long games after school for four days a week. After all that exercise, I never ate. But after a week, I felt dizzy and so weak to the point where I couldn't sit up that day. So I grudgingly started to eat salads only and ate just once each day.