Troubled

34: Sick

Megan Crawford.
Tuesday, September 22nd 2015.
11:23

For some reason, out of nowhere, I had gotten really sick.

Everything had been falling into place. Aria had sent cookies with Kyle. She had baked so much for me the past few days. She had heard about the death of my father and about her brother and I being back together again. So she had wanted to show me her love and her condolences with her delicious, exquisite treats. I would sit down on the kitchen and have them with milk. They were so good, I could not believe it.

Two days had passed since Kyle and I had admitted our love for each other and had shared our first time together. I was still completely inconsolable, I was still going out of my mind. But when he was around, life seemed a bit less unbearable, and I could fake a smile just so he would assume that I was not too sad anymore. I wanted him to think I was getting better, because maybe if I pretended, it would become true sometime. Since that night, he had shown up at my door every morning with more chocolate chip cookies and a small smile.

School was back. But I was going to miss the first week. My friends called my phone to tell me about the classes and teachers we had. We were seniors now and some things had changed. They said they wished I was with them, that they loved me and wanted be around. They were concerned about me, I knew because of how gentle their voices were when they talked to me. But I had Kyle to keep me company, that was what I would say to them over and over again.

My incredibly sweet boyfriend was with me. He had been supposed to go back to the city that week, but he kept telling me that it was fine for him to stay a bit more time. College would begin in one week, so he could be in town with me until then. He promised that I was not holding him back, he just wanted to be with me because I was miserable and alone. He could not stand the thought of me on my own in my house, without my family and without him.

Things had been going well enough. Kyle would sleep with me at night, we would fuck and talk for hours, and then we would go to bed. When I woke up in the morning he would be gone because he had to go home to shower and change clothes. In the time that he was not around, I would bathe myself and swallow three antidepressants. So when he would come back at around noon I would not be so vulnerable, and I would smile at him as he would hand me the cookies. We would watch television for hours, and then at night we would do the same as the night before. We did this over and over. It was fine, it was not bad.

But then one day, when Kyle was over at his place in the morning and I was looking for something to wear with a towel wrapped around me, I felt sick. My vision was becoming a blur and my mind was beginning to spin. I ran towards the bathroom and knelt down on the floor, then I threw up into the toilet. It was disgusting, I just vomited and vomited until there was nothing in my stomach anymore.

I sat with my back to the wall for some time thinking about what had just happened. I was not one to get sick too much, so I was confused. I had been feeling fine all day before that moment. It had been so unexpected. Maybe I had had too many cookies.

I did not walk out of the bathroom just in case something disastrous took place once again. The idea itself bothered me, but there was nothing I could do about it. Five minutes passed and I was kneeling down, holding my hair back with my fingers and throwing up.

I did not notice that my boyfriend had come into the house. I had been leaving the door open for him, because the neighborhood I lived in was not dangerous, and because sometimes when he came back I was still sleeping. He stood there, staring at me with scared eyes, wearing a sweater that made him look so good as well as his sunglasses that I lived so much. Shame took over me, because there he was, handsome as ever, and I was looking tired and foul. But he did not seem disturbed by my appearance. He was just upset because he could see I was not doing well. He questioned, "Is something wrong? What is going on?"