By Jenny Hilborne (challenge~desperation~victory)
Colin sits on the bench beside me, high up on the bluff. He speaks with his eyes closed and his face tilted toward the sun.
“If you could have anything you wanted, what would you choose?”
My gaze slides beyond him and out into distance. “I don’t know.”
Truth is, I do know.
Colin lets out a long sigh. “Do you know what I’d choose?”
I sense he has opened one eye, and that eye is looking at me. “Okay. What would you choose?” I focus my attention on the schoolyard down below us, and watch the little kids at play, envious of their innocence.
I hear a small intake of breath, and wait for the words to leave his lips. Somehow, I know what they’ll be. Part of me wants to hear them. The weaker part of me wants to run away.
“I’d choose for you to trust me.”
I sense the challenge in his voice and my eyes fill with tears. I blink them away and tug my long sleeves further down over my hands. “I do trust you.”
“No, you don’t. Not completely.”
An awkward silence fills the space between us. I wait for him to speak again because with the unshed tears lodged in my throat I can’t utter another word. I can’t share the thing I want most because it’s not possible to have.
“I won’t leave if you tell me,” he says.
I think about how far I’ve come, and how far I have left to go. I want my life back the way it was, before it all happened, when I used to enjoy long afternoons with the warm sun kissing my face, naturally lightening my hair, a stroll by the river, the buzz of summer bees, and a sip of wine in a flower-filled garden with my best friend, Annemarie. As I can’t enjoy any of those things anymore, I want to leap from spring to fall and skip the dreaded season in between. I’ve been told it wasn’t my fault, yet I can’t accept it, and summer continues to fill me with a quiet desperation.
“Tell you what?” I say, hating the question and this stupid conversation.
“The truth.”
Colin is the first boyfriend I’ve had since I left the hospital, six years ago. We met at a wedding last fall. He doesn’t remember me, and I didn’t recognize him at first. He’s precious to me in ways I can’t explain.
“You can tell me anything.”
He’s intuitive, and kind. I want be honest and tell him the truth. I feel his hand close over mine and squeeze it with encouragement. I want to draw back, but I don’t. Instead, I pull up my long sleeves, remove my silver cuff bracelets and show him the insides of my wrists. Perhaps I can do it without words.
Confusion clouds his dark eyes. “Why?”
I cover my wrists again and sigh. The burden on my heart weakens me, forces out the words I don’t want to speak. I hear fear in my voice and dread that he won’t understand. He lost someone, too, and I remind myself of this as I stumble on.
He listens in silence as I tell him, share the bits he doesn’t know.
“Every day, I hated myself for not being thin.” I look to him for recognition and a spark lights in his eyes. Even though he doesn’t know it all, I see I’ve touched a raw nerve, one that will ignite when I tell him the rest.
“Go on.” His tone is guarded.
“My best friend and I…we made a secret pact.”
Skeletal. Emaciated. The doctor’s words ring in my ears.
“At first, it was fun. We saw how thin and beautiful…but it wasn’t a victory.” The tears threaten to engulf me and I struggle to go on. ”The weight dropped off so fast, we couldn’t stop it.” To my ears, it sounds like an excuse, and an overdue apology. “We both ended up in the hospital. The recovery was long…and complicated. I lived…and Annemarie died.” She'd slipped away that same summer.
My barriers torn down, I’m vulnerable, weak, exposed. I barely notice him slide across the bench, closer to me, nor do I feel the arm he slips around me, until he pulls my head to his shoulder. I don’t deserve it.
“I’m so sorry, Colin. I never meant for it to happen. Any of it.”
For a while neither of us say anything.
“You were sick,” he finally manages. “Both of you. It’s not your fault.”
Why do I feel it is? “So, you see…it’s a difficult question to answer. The truth is, if I could have anything I wanted…I’d bring back Annemarie. I’d bring your sister back and take her place.”
Colin sits on the bench beside me, high up on the bluff. He speaks with his eyes closed and his face tilted toward the sun.
“If you could have anything you wanted, what would you choose?”
My gaze slides beyond him and out into distance. “I don’t know.”
Truth is, I do know.
Colin lets out a long sigh. “Do you know what I’d choose?”
I sense he has opened one eye, and that eye is looking at me. “Okay. What would you choose?” I focus my attention on the schoolyard down below us, and watch the little kids at play, envious of their innocence.
I hear a small intake of breath, and wait for the words to leave his lips. Somehow, I know what they’ll be. Part of me wants to hear them. The weaker part of me wants to run away.
“I’d choose for you to trust me.”
I sense the challenge in his voice and my eyes fill with tears. I blink them away and tug my long sleeves further down over my hands. “I do trust you.”
“No, you don’t. Not completely.”
An awkward silence fills the space between us. I wait for him to speak again because with the unshed tears lodged in my throat I can’t utter another word. I can’t share the thing I want most because it’s not possible to have.
“I won’t leave if you tell me,” he says.
I think about how far I’ve come, and how far I have left to go. I want my life back the way it was, before it all happened, when I used to enjoy long afternoons with the warm sun kissing my face, naturally lightening my hair, a stroll by the river, the buzz of summer bees, and a sip of wine in a flower-filled garden with my best friend, Annemarie. As I can’t enjoy any of those things anymore, I want to leap from spring to fall and skip the dreaded season in between. I’ve been told it wasn’t my fault, yet I can’t accept it, and summer continues to fill me with a quiet desperation.
“Tell you what?” I say, hating the question and this stupid conversation.
“The truth.”
Colin is the first boyfriend I’ve had since I left the hospital, six years ago. We met at a wedding last fall. He doesn’t remember me, and I didn’t recognize him at first. He’s precious to me in ways I can’t explain.
“You can tell me anything.”
He’s intuitive, and kind. I want be honest and tell him the truth. I feel his hand close over mine and squeeze it with encouragement. I want to draw back, but I don’t. Instead, I pull up my long sleeves, remove my silver cuff bracelets and show him the insides of my wrists. Perhaps I can do it without words.
Confusion clouds his dark eyes. “Why?”
I cover my wrists again and sigh. The burden on my heart weakens me, forces out the words I don’t want to speak. I hear fear in my voice and dread that he won’t understand. He lost someone, too, and I remind myself of this as I stumble on.
He listens in silence as I tell him, share the bits he doesn’t know.
“Every day, I hated myself for not being thin.” I look to him for recognition and a spark lights in his eyes. Even though he doesn’t know it all, I see I’ve touched a raw nerve, one that will ignite when I tell him the rest.
“Go on.” His tone is guarded.
“My best friend and I…we made a secret pact.”
Skeletal. Emaciated. The doctor’s words ring in my ears.
“At first, it was fun. We saw how thin and beautiful…but it wasn’t a victory.” The tears threaten to engulf me and I struggle to go on. ”The weight dropped off so fast, we couldn’t stop it.” To my ears, it sounds like an excuse, and an overdue apology. “We both ended up in the hospital. The recovery was long…and complicated. I lived…and Annemarie died.” She'd slipped away that same summer.
My barriers torn down, I’m vulnerable, weak, exposed. I barely notice him slide across the bench, closer to me, nor do I feel the arm he slips around me, until he pulls my head to his shoulder. I don’t deserve it.
“I’m so sorry, Colin. I never meant for it to happen. Any of it.”
For a while neither of us say anything.
“You were sick,” he finally manages. “Both of you. It’s not your fault.”
Why do I feel it is? “So, you see…it’s a difficult question to answer. The truth is, if I could have anything I wanted…I’d bring back Annemarie. I’d bring your sister back and take her place.”