Down Low

I'm not really sure what I was expecting. I guess after the short time we've been aimlessly walking around trying to find something to do, I figured I'd perk up a bit and maybe smile? I don't know. I have known it for a very long time, and by now, you all probably understand that something is intrinsically wrong with me. This goes deeper than pain and sadness. Whenever I cry, my chest heaves heavily like it might fall apart or disconnect from my body. I just feel so heavy. And when I don't cry, I don't feel anything at all. Which is kind of how I feel now. Alex is trying his best to make me laugh and maybe visit the arcade like he originally suggested, but all I can offer him is a chuckle and a shrug. And I know that it's not fair. What I need now is a hard slap in the face.

Or maybe a drink.

Eventually we ended up sitting down on a street-side bench, watching all the other tourists obnoxiously laughing and talking loudly to one another. I need to think of something fast, before Alex gives up on me too. I can change for the benefit of others right? I don't like to admit it in words, per se, but I really enjoy his company and want to keep him around for as long as I can manage. But I fear that just may be me latching onto others for stability, and that's the last thing I need. Depending on people...what a waste. Next to me I can hear Alex sigh and mutter, “Do you wanna just get some food?”

Dammit. Just fucking suck it up. I'm not sure where I found the energy to, considering how terrible I feel, but I just suddenly jumped up, pulling Alex with me and stated, “Finally. That's the best suggestion you've made all day. And it's something I'm good at.” He tiredly ran his fingers through his soft hair and chuckled, “You know these mood swings of yours are really starting to give me whiplash.”

“Seriously, my dude. Hurry the fuck up I'm starving,” I called over my shoulder. I caught a glimpse of his smirk before running into the burger joint across the road. Really though, I am starving. I'm a mess of a human being, and I think if I eat and stop being such a frigid bitch, I might start to feel better. By the time Alex caught up with me and sat down at the bar, I was already receiving my mountain of french fries.

“Wahoho, you sure you can fit all of that in there?” Alex asked with wide eyes.

“Very funny, you little shit. Just watch me,” I mumbled while stuffing a handful of fries in my mouth. I swear I melted. I forgot how good greasy American food was. I just about orgasmed, moaning after every bite. The server at the bar laughed, joking, “You'd think she hasn't eaten in weeks.” That's because I haven't. I suddenly felt embarrassed and sick, as I peered around the room at all people stuffing their chubby faces with burgers and pizza. Even Alex was eating sloppily and it just made me feel...disgusting and pathetic. I knew what I needed to do, but fortunately enough, the amount of food I had inhaled made it easy to make an excuse.

“Oh...ugh...nope, that was definitely a horrible idea,” I stated while clutching my stomach. I lost all control before. I never eat like that, even when I did eat. What the hell.
“Oh no...are you gonna throw up? You...needa pace yourself man,” Alex muttered through bites.

I ran into the bathroom and had my fingers down my throat before I even reached the stall.

Much better.