I Lied When I Said I Didn't Love You

Sasha pulled me to my feet.

“Come on, I’m going to make some coffee,” she said.

I saw her disappear into the kitchen, her brown hair bobbing just above the counter as she searched for some instant coffee. I wandered back to the couch, my head spinning. The back of my throat still burned, a horrible reminder of what I had just done.

Why didn’t I lie?

Why?

I knew the answer even as I asked myself this question.

I didn’t want to lie to her.

Otherwise I could stuff things up, just like with Tre and Billie.

Sasha sat next to me, pressing a cup into my hand. I blushed as I looked at her, realising she was only wearing a black short nightgown. Stuff like that embarrasses me, especially when it’s a girl. Sasha faced me, her brown eyes locked to mine.

“I’m not going to ask you anything that would make you uncomfortable. I’m not going to lecture you about it. I’m just giving you this choice, you can talk to me about it or not. Whatever makes you feel better.”

She held the cup loosely in her hands. I stared at her arms. They looked just as skinny and frail as mine.

Was she also bulimic?

“Mike,” she said finally. “Have you ever heard of a condition called anorexia?”

“Yes,” I answered, not knowing what to expect.

Why was she talking about anorexia?

Unless…

No.

It couldn’t be…

My suspicions were confirmed a moment later.

“When I was fourteen, I had to move schools. My parents had made me move once again, leaving all my friends behind. As soon as I got to this new school, I was swamped with work. Tests every other day, assignments everywhere. Also, I was teased because I was different. I was dramatic, very outgoing. People didn’t like that. They thought I thought I was better then them. So they tried to cut me down to size. Every day, I would hear how my teeth looked terrible, that I had oily skin, my hair was a mess.”

I gawked at her. Sasha? Get teased about how she looked?

She had to be the most gorgeous girl I’d seen outside of magazines and TV. Of course, that was just my opinion. But I couldn’t see how anyone could say that.

“I was struggling along, my happiness being drained from me,” she continued, staring past me like she was watching her past on a screen.

“Finally, one day I snapped. I needed control over something. The thing was I had control over so little. So I stopped eating. I wouldn’t eat more then a mouthful a day, a full meal maybe a once a week. I kept this up for two years. I didn’t see how skeletal I looked. I didn’t know that I was so weak that just brisk walking could make me faint. At school, my marks were slipping. The teachers were worried, because I kept passing out at school. Especially when we did sport.

'My music teacher confronted me one day. He said I should take a look at myself; I was turning into the living dead. He gave me a card with the number of a psychiatrist on it, telling me to call that person. Of course, I ignored this warning. A week later, I was hospitalised. They put a tube down my throat, forcing food into my body. I was extremely thin. For the next six months, I was put in a special ward for girls with eating disorders. I can honestly say I think it saved my life. Living in a place where girls died from trying to stay skinny opens your eyes. I lost quite a lot of friends in that ward.”

She looked down at her lap, the memories flashing before her eyes.

“Several of those friends were bulimic, like you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Should I tell her the truth? This all started from my boyfriend breaking my heart?

“I just can’t stop,” I said quietly. “When pressure gets too much- I have to do something. It’s a compulsion. I know what it’s doing to me. But, I just can’t stop.”

“Have you tried getting help?”

“No,” I sighed. “I’m scared- what if they lock me away? What if they say I’m nuts?”

Sasha placed a hand on my leg.

“They won’t, trust me. You’re not the only one in the world like this.”

Sometimes it felt that way.

She got up, taking my empty coffee cup. She turned to take it to the kitchen- and tripped over my bag. She fell on the floor, photos spilling everywhere. The cup rolled away under a chair.

“Sasha! Are you okay?” I asked, helping her up. She swung her hair back from her face, looking down at the floor.

“What are these?”

She picked up one of the photos, the one of Billie and I sharing a piece of pizza, in a very intimate way.

“”Wow. Is this your boyfriend? He’s cute,” she said after a minute.
She was disappointed, I could tell. She liked me.

“Was my boyfriend. We broke up almost a year ago.”

And how quickly that time had gone past.

“You need to get fixed up with someone else, you know,” she commented, picking up a photo of Tre. “How about this guy?”

“Tre?” I laughed. “I don’t think so. I’ve shared an apartment with him for a long time- he just jumps into other people’s pants and runs away.”

Sasha giggled.

“Besides, I don’t only date guys,” I continued, before realising what I said.

Damn! How did that slip out?

“I kinda figured, you did kiss me earlier.”

I went crimson, looking at my shoes. Why’d she have to bring that up? I was still kicking myself for doing that.

“Yeah, about that- I’m really sorry,” I muttered. Sasha shook her head.

“You said that before, and again I’m telling you not to be. I- I kinda liked it, really.”

This time she was the one that blushed. I put my hand on the side of her face, trying to cool it with my cold hands. She interpreted it differently though.

She kissed me, her soft lips tickling mine. I put my hand on the back of her head, pressing her closer. Her hair was soft underneath my palm. Soft and smooth, like silk. Her eyelashes brushed my cheek, like delicate butterfly wings.

I had forgotten what kissing like this felt like.

My hands went down from her hair, pulling at her nightgown gently as the kiss intensified. I wasn’t thinking about my actions anymore. I was living them.

Sasha pulled back, her eyes alive with fire. Without a word, she pulled me into her room.

And this time, I didn’t run.