I'm Sorry I Can't Be Perfect

Title from Simple Plan song. Anyway, I wrote this a little while ago, and looking back I don't even know why. Heavy involvement of eating disorders! And therefore could be triggering. Anyway. May delete this. Maaaaan


2. Chapter 2


Oh no, no, no, no. She was going to make herself throw up again, I knew it. There wasn’t enough in her system to throw up, surely? I raced after her but she was too distracted to notice. She didn’t even hear the glass smash on the floor. I leant at the door which she had forgotten to shut and lock in her haste. I saw her cradling over the toilet bowl, one hand down her throat and the other holding herself still, although her frail body was still shaking. She looked so vulnerable, she was destroying herself. It was one of those moments where you can’t look away. I’d caught her before. I can remember it so clearly, she was in this same position. It was at my apartment, my tiny bathroom. She had locked the door but forgot the lock didn’t work. I know it sounds awful to intrude on her personal privacy but the walls are thin and I could hear it from the kitchen. I hate that noise. I had yelled at her. I shouldn’t have, that was an awful thing to do. I made my own girlfriend cry.


After a few minutes, I leant back and got up to wash my hands. I tied my hair up in a ponytail using the hair band that was on my wrist. I rinsed my mouth out and looked at my reflection in the mirror sadly, and then upon closer inspection, noticed a figure standing solemnly at the door. I whipped around to see it was Jared, with a miserable, yet startlingly terrified look plastered across his face. I met his stare with a look of guilt, like the look a puppy has when they’re told off. The silence between us seemed to slow everything down, but my stomach gave a tell-tale rumble which made him snap back into focus.


He entered the bathroom properly and pulled me to the bathroom floor. I slammed the toilet lid shut and flushed.


“It wasn’t even hardly anything. Not worth it at all. Why are you doing this, Kayleigh?” he said slowly, as he stared at the closed toilet.


How did she do it? How could you throw up on an empty stomach?


“I’m sorry.” I looked at him nervously. He was staring at my red, raw hands that I’d just scrubbed clean, holding them in his and running his fingers against my knuckles.


“That’s not an answer to the question. Why are you doing this, Kay?” he repeated.


“I need to be thin,” I whispered, pulling my knees up to my chest.


“But you are, Kay! Oh my god!” He pulled my knees back down so they were flat against the floor. “Can you not see this massive gap here?” He was implying there was a gap between my thighs. I looked down.


There was barely anything of her. From a glance you can tell she’s skinny, but moments like this, which don’t happen often, are those where you can see the extent of the damage she’s done. I barely have her anymore, there’s nothing there. It’s just skin and bones.


“All I see are my legs,” I replied.


He sighed, and pulled out my arm. He made a loop around my wrist using his thumb and forefinger, very much like a bracelet.


“Can you see this?”


“See what?”


“The gap between my fingers and your wrist.”


“No, I can’t see it.”


He stood up, and using his strong arms, he pulled me up. I watched cautiously as he reached behind the sink to get the bathroom scales which he promptly placed in front of me. I looked at him. He couldn’t possibly be serious.


“Step on, Kay.” He demanded.


“I can’t!”


“You can. Just step on.”


“I can’t... too heavy... you’ll see... no...” my words were not making sense. I couldn’t let Jared see how heavy I was; he’d be so disgusted and probably break up with me right there on the spot.


He wrapped his arms around me, intending to pick me up and drop me on the scales. I kicked and screamed and sobbed, but somehow he had pinned my arms to my sides and was holding me still on the scales. He turned his head slightly to read the number, his un-brushed bed hair brushing my knees. Tears were streaming down my face. This was it; he was going to dump me. Just great. Just brilliant.

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