Fat Girl

Monica wants to be inspired.

Sprawled out on the carpet, loose clothes layering her body, beads of sweat decorating her skin. A dull fire is smouldering across her stomach, ripping across her muscles. She lets out a puff and tries to relax for a moment.

She wants to feel, deep inside herself, something that makes her wonder in awe. Something that completely devours her mind until there are too many questions and not enough answers and while she sits there, mind spinning, she’s completely at ease and everything feels right. She wants to be so completely content with everything and yet so completely disturbed that while consumed by this never ending contradiction she lulls off into a distant dream of pure ecstasy.

She wants to feel like the entire world is in the palm of her hand and even though she knows that it isn’t, she wants to feel like she can do anything. Like the sun is shining for her and the birds are chirping for her and that boy across the street thinks she’s cute.

Quotes can be read and movies can be watched, she can stare as the night sky twinkles before her eyes and she can feel the water lick across her skin, but she can’t be inspired. Nothing can breathe that muse in lungs and nothing can whisper that awe into her ear.

All she knows is her feet planted firmly on the ground and her arms wrapped tightly around her too-large stomach.

Another sit-up and another gasp pours from her lips. She tells herself that it’s worth it, everything will be worth it. In the end she’ll be so pleased, so happy with herself. Just five more, only five, she can do it.

Maybe one day, she tells herself, she will feel that ignorant bliss. Maybe one day she’ll stare up into that cloudy sky, smeared across all she can see, and feel its comforting arms wrap around her, transporting her into a world where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Five. Four. Three.

But she’s too heavy; the clouds aren’t strong enough to pick her up. She needs to be feathery light, like a bird, like inspiration.

Two.

She wonders if she’ll ever be inspiring, she wonders if her words will ever mean anything, she wonders if everything will ever be worth it.

Will it be worth it?

One.

Her breathing is shallow and the pain is throbbing in her stomach. A small sense of pride creeps in, but all her mind can focus on is the ceiling.

All she wants is to be inspired.