Do you remember?

Do you remember hanging out during the clinic?
We all got on the bus, heading to the clinic. K- and G- tried to make me sit next to you,
filling my seat with violins, trying to force me to sit next to you, but I resisted,
so embarrassed. I listened to my mp3player and talked to K- and G- and Sa- and J-. K- and I played punch-buggy and she got me way more times than I did. You and I  more or less ignored each other. We didn't talk for a while, until there was a break.
I don't remember how or why, but you ended up with one of my earphones,
and we were listening to my music, (thank god we like the same stuff)
and K- and G- came over and invited us to that elementary school game,
where you get in a close circle and grab hands with two people and try to untangle everyone without
un-clasping hands. I just grabbed two people's hands but K- and G- forced me to grab your hands
and I'm sure I was blushing.
Fast forward a while, 'til we were breaking again, all of us from P- High School huddled in a corner,
K- made me sit next to you, elbow to elbow, thigh to thigh. She was sitting half on my legs and you were telling me about the time that Br- ate your pizza and why you wouldn't give him any of your
Mountain Dew that you had in your backpack. You showed me the seven cans you had and the
power strip you brought to charge phones. Then you gave me a Mountain Dew and we talked,
and I was showing you the video that I always hoped no one saw me watching because of how
creepy it is, and we walked to the auditorium and
my heart was running a million miles a minute and my hands were shaking as we talked
and we sat together in the auditorium, listening to our Zune's and you were telling me about
how you had several seasons of Adventure Time on yours and then we watched
"Burning Low", the episode where Finn is going out with Flame Princess and it was so cute
but then G- ruined it by coming over and pulling out your earphone and watching the video for a few seconds. But he went away and we talked for so long and you made me laugh so loud that Ms. R-
shushed me.
Eventually we went to lunch and I didn't really eat because of my hypoglycemia and we talked forever over pizza and Mountain Dew.
Skip forward a few hours, going home on the bus, sitting side by side, singing along to songs, until we got back to the school, hanging out until our respective adults picked us up.
You and I were last, listening to my Zune, and I was standing on the feet of the piano, so we were closer
in height and I was petting your hair (the first time of what will be many) and we went outside to wait, listening to Caraphernelia as my aunt pulled up, deciding to "punish" me for not calling in time,
yelling out her car window that my "***** looked bigger." I glared and yelled that I didn't think my band-mate really needed to hear that and she laughed and I waved goodbye to you.
Not long later, Sh- called and we were talking and she said that
you said that you definitely liked me.
One of the happiest moments of my life, until then.

Blood work. Glucose tolerance tests.
Appointment following appointment.
Cat Scans and MRI's. Radioactive liquids to ingest and fainting spells.

An awful rendition of some woeful soap opera is playing day by day updates on what is ailing my seemingly healthy shell.

Maybe it's hypoglycemia? Maybe it's not. Maybe the oxygen that my brain is writhing for isn't being delivered because options A,B, & C are the direct result of head trauma age 14. Or was it 18? Forgive me; I can't recall information lately.

I'm not even surprised that somewhere within my cells the ATCG format to my beautiful helix strands aren't aligned. I suspected.

Instead I go through  phases of crashing emotions. Each wave more dizzying than the last. Maybe that's my blood pressure plummetting again?

In any case, the most consistent emotional response I experience is not questioning what, but considering the maybe. Maybe I deserve this? Yes. This may be what I deserve.

"You are what you eat"
until one day you don't
and that's what you become
n o t h i n g (beautiful?)
your cognitions like broken clock cogs
s l o w s l o w s l o w (perfect?)

tabula rasa is the body unbefouled by
nourishment (enemy?)
And the walls are washed white
Nature sickly perverts vitality
The cornucopia becomes a conspiracy
To sully your porcelain
e m p t i n e s s (happiness?)

hypoglycemia makes you shake
but not as hard as eating a whole meal

Can one person be so myriad?
This identity could not possibly fit inside a body.

Dreamer. Comedian. Thinker.
  Friend. Musician. Writer. Smiler.
   Lover. Wisher. Runner. Fighter.

      Bulimic.

And there it is: ugliest of all words.
This identity could not possibly fit inside a body,
and you see, it doesn't.

It breaks it.



I don't know how
but


*I will win

Do you remember?

Do you remember talking for hours on end, until I was nearly falling asleep at the computer?
We talked for hours and hours, about anything and everything and nothing.
We talked until late, or early, however you want to put it, and I would tell you that I was gonna go,
but we would keep talking anyways and I would keep saying I was gonna go.
We would talk about everything from your friends, to my hypoglycemia, to religion, to superheros.
We only stopped talking for sleep (eventually), showers and when I went to the movies.
And then there was the incident.
We were talking about how, in middle school, when I had to switch schools, I felt very alone.
Then, you said to me:
"I hope you know I've never done this before, and I hope you know you're not alone.",
an indirect quote from Repeating Apologies by Of Mice & Men.
And I couldn't help it. The boy I liked so, so much, telling me such sweet things, when I did feel alone
and I started crying. I made a post on my blog, and then I remembered too late that you followed me
and I told you not to read it, but you read the post anyway and after I left to sleep finally, you told me
that you wanted to give me a hug, and when I read that later, I kind of wanted to cry again, knowing that you cared.

Daddy asked the doctor why I wouldn't speak. He asked if I was autistic. He said he didn't want a stupid child, he didn't know I could hear him, this was at three

Daddy always said his little girl would grow up and be happy, four.

Daddy said his little girl would get whatever she needed, five.

Daddy said he had someone over and that I didn't need anything at that moment, to just go to sleep, six.

Daddy and I didn't talk much this year, he was always passed out surrounded by beer cans when I got home from school, seven.

Daddy saw my trophy from performing arts, he threw it at the ground claimed Arts never make it, eight.

Daddy didn't feed me after this year. I began to have to feed myself, I got thinner, and thinner. Operating was hard, especially during the summer. School days were gone, I didn't get school lunch. I fainted often, hypoglycemia is a curse, nine.

Daddy yelled at me in the yard, I began shaking rapidly not knowing why I couldn't control my body. My neighbor called an ambulance to rush me to the hospital. The doctors said it was a seizure, he said I was faking. He yanked the iv out of my skin and made me get into the car, ten.

Dad told me that someone stole my birthday money this year. He grabbed his whiskey bottle and poured another glass and motioned for me to go to my room. I was too young to notice that money was feeding his habit, eleven.

I came home to dad with a trophy from our school play, I won best portrayal. He snatched the trophy, as I was walking away it smashed on the door frame beside me, twelve.

Dad popped the pills for my anxiety, things got worse. It was as if he wasn't there. He tugged on my long sleeve shirt and asked how I could always wear these, that I must always be hot, he had no clue, thirteen.

Dad fell asleep, I took his alcohol and threw it at the side of the house so it would bust. I didn't want another night with this, he saw, the next day I woke up. I was on the floor with a concussion, fourteen.

Father told me I didn't need anything, I was old enough to get a job, I should get one and stop being so whiney, fifteen.

Jason found out his baby girl didn't feel like he was a girl, even though he scolded me for not being a boy when I was younger. The next morning before Class began . I borrowed my friends make-up to cover a bruise. I told her it was only my clumsiness. She bought it. Sixteen.

Jason isn't a part of my life anymore, but he still haunts me to this day.. All the years have done damage. Now a boy sits on the edge of his bed fighting off demons from the insanity which you gave him. No one needs to deal with this at the age of seventeen.

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