He Loves Me, I Love Ballet

Chapter 21 (Epilogue, sort of)

Spring. New beginnings and all that shit. I don’t get all the hype, it's really just humid and rainy and too bright. I told Rian that one time when were sitting in his backyard and he chuckled his sad, hopeful little chuckle. “You know, I’m not even surprised that you don’t like springtime. Of anyone in the world, you’d be the one who doesn’t like the idea of a fresh start.”

I smiled to myself. It started drizzling. Oh, the irony. Rian kissed a raindrop off my cheek and I pushed myself off the porch steps; he laughed as he followed me inside. He still thinks girls actually like that romantic-comedy type of behavior, holding doors and kissing raindrops of skin and everything, and it’s so adorable that I won't tell him how cheesy it is. We sat on the couch that was always covered in pillows in front of the TV that was always on and ate almonds from the snack bowl that was always full. His house felt busy even when only we were home, just from the family that inhabited it, and I loved it.

And then the acid would start in my stomach like the flames licking up the walls of a burning house, screaming hunger, turning structure to ash. And I would relish it. And he would see me shut down, sitting amidst the lovely hunger again because it was too rare lately, and words would start coming and hugs and smiles. He always thought helped me, but when I told the hunger "No, I don't want this anymore", it wasn't because Rian thought I was strong. It wasn't his consolations and encouragement that put food in my mouth, it was my own hand. With the strength it took to raise a fork to my mouth, I could move mountains. And I would. I will, because if I'm strong enough to do the damage I did, then I'm strong enough to be okay eventually. To bare dull, dry skin and brittle bones and leap and turn because I can, because I am capable. Because I am strong enough to dance, to fall in love, to fight hunger, to lose to it and get up again. I am strong enough. That hunger can go to hell, I'm going to be okay somehow.

So I ate a few more almonds and switched the channel, settling in for the afternoon. 

*** A/N: Thanks so much to everyone for your support. I loved writing this - it was sad, and difficult, and sometimes frustrating, but it was good for me - and I thank you all for reading and for caring about Maria and about me. I'm doing much better in general and I want to move on from this story now, but I love you all so so much. For those of you that relate to this book the way I do: you'll be okay. Anyone who tells you "stay strong, it gets better" is bullshitting you and you don't have to listen to them. You can't always be strong. However, eventually, you can be just a little more powerful than you used to be, and you can fight the voices in your head. Punch a mirror if you have to, mirrors are brats. They bend light and bend the truth. You won't believe me if I say you're beautiful, and I know because I've been there and I sometimes still feel like that, but just that somehow, someday, you can be okay.****