My little labor of love.
Last night at Tiff's birthday party, I drank a bit too much and I smoked almost everything in sight. Now, my head, chest, and throat are paying for it. There were times I wanted to cry when I ended up catching sight of some things I clearly was not ready to see yet. I really tried not to be sad about it. And there were times when I was angry because someone had taken Wy's phone. But for the majority of the night, I had fun. I met some awesome people, and hung out with old friends. Shell, Steph, and I brought some really delicious home-made rainbow cupcakes. I tried to fend off Kelsey's stalkers, but I kind of sucked at it. Cuddles on the couch were nice. Albert gave me a kiss on the forehead and made me promise him I would sober up and stop drinking. Crys and I had en epic hug battle and food fight (and clean-up) which felt like old times, but not really. I was glad to have left on good note with her. And then she and Tiff walked me to my car when I was finally sober enough to drive. And it was really cute and sweet, and it made me both sad and happy because there was a time when the three of us were insanely close, and it hasn't been that way in a while, and I miss it. But at least this time, I didn't have to punch anyone at the party.
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Today, my mother told my sister during brunch that her little skinniness was now "fatter" than one of my cousins. Obviously, it sent her into tears. I said what I could to liven things up and to assure her that she was not "fat", and that she makes me feel absolutely disgusting about my own body every day. In other words, she was an idiot. My mother then looks at me and says "then you should do something about it." At this point I'm halfway from swallowing the first few mouthfuls of my leftover subway sandwich from last night. I look up at my mother, who is sneering at me through the empty spaces of the centerpiece. I stand up, throw the remainder of my sandwich onto the middle of the dining table, and say "okay, I will". I stormed into my room, and my face was hot, and my eyes are welling up with tears. I used to feel so confident in my skin. I was never a stick, and I used to love it. But it was too easy to let people's idealistic perceptions of what "beautiful" is get to me. Mother, every time I've forcibly thrown up is a reaction to your insolence.
I am kneeling before the toilet, and then for some reason, a memory creeps into my head. A distant memory from more than a year ago, where am lying in her bed, glowing in my summer skin. And she is lying next to me and she smells like the sun. And she is tracing her fingers along my legs, my stomach, my breasts, and I am shy about it, so I take her hand away. But instead, she holds me in a tight embrace, and she tells me in my ear, "I love your body". I love your body.
So I had myself a cupcake. And now I will continue on with my painting.
mkp.
