Here I am in 5th place. With the slightly larger ones. But with the same tyrants. Nothing had changed. Still the same song, but others took up the torch. Girls this time, girls from my class. They were beautiful, they were skinny, she dressed up with brand. The kind of girls popular with everyone.
This year I made a promise to myself, to blend in with the mass, to disappear with a style passes everywhere. As close as possible to theirs. Them, big jigs that were barely 50 kg, me, not very big that was closer to the 55 there was a mistake and only one. It pushed me to the toilet at every meal, a tireless routine of torture for body and mind, a social forge for a steel mind. After each meal my 2 fingers at the bottom of the throat brought out the surplus food. Like models did to stay fit, I did it because I thought it would help me survive.
It's called anorexia. From 55 I fell to 48 kg I was like her. But I was skeletal, ghostly, more than the reflection of myself. What I saw in the mirror always disgusted me. As some people become addicted to drugs I had become addicted to thinness, it had to be always more.
And the harassment didn't stop. I didn't think I was fat, but it was never satisfying, I always told myself that I could do better, that I could get closer to them. Except that they were not anorexic. They were not vomited.
I was ashamed. Ashamed to have fallen so low, ashamed to have come here.
But I ended up making friends. You know what they say, between outcasts, we understand each other. We were the group of outsiders we spit on, but at least we weren't alone anymore.
There was the geek, connoisseur of all the existing video games who always had a computer with him, Sulivan.The mute, we never knew if he did not speak because he did not want or simply because it was stronger than him, Nikko.Then we had this friend who was always making dirty, heavy jokes but he was pretty endearing, Alec.
It is in a smell of vomit and salt that it ended this 5th year.
The fourth was marked by one of the most beautiful encounters of my life. There were two names that I will not change in this story because they deserve all the recognition of the world.
New years new resolutions. I will never let anyone read me walk on me. Easy to say when the tyrants left. New year, new students. Finally only one. Solenne, a blonde with blue eyes, sublime, all dressed in black has porcelain skin. Her broad shoulders, which made her more than anything. She looked so sure of herself, with her warm smell, she smelled of hot brioche. Eternal child's face she didn't even realize how sublime she was.
She was in my class, she was alone, and she didn't know anyone. So was I. Our senior teacher at the time was a science and earth life teacher. The time came for the mandatory group practice. And here are the two singles of 4th D gathered in the same group for better and for worse. A long friendship of 3 years followed. She was my first real friend, she was also the first woman I fell in love with. I fell in love with her little by little, first of her smile, then of her face, then of her manias, of her so cute way of sneezing, of her way of looking at me, of protecting me.I fell in love with her as we fell asleep.
Once in EPS, course of torture under supervision, we had the misfortune to make half-bottom. How to say that for a asmathic is not the best. But I wanted to do it, the more I ran, the more my breath was whistling. She asked me to stop, because she knew full well that I would continue no matter what, she made her ultimate argument. Do it for me, "and then she would shove me through these oceans of ice that served as her iris, and I would succumb every time. Now that I think about it I wonder if she didn't know I never told her. She was beautiful, she was sweet, and then she changed. But it will be later.
Slumber party, sleepless party, giggles at rehearsal. She had not had an easy life, she had this natural mental strength. I had to see her cry once in 3 years. Solenne, the girl who hated human contact, not once I was able to hug her. You imagine, you love a person as a friend or as a woman and not once can you hug her. It's sad, it's horrible.
That girl made me who I am now. This blonde with an alternative style, this girl who rubbed off on me, she who allowed me to assert myself. This princess complexed by her shoulders. A girl full of culture and a girl full of demons, she allowed me to spend two years properly. I gained weight, and I enjoyed every moment by his side.
The truth is, I can't remember how we first approached each other anymore and it's killing me. Was it her who came to talk to me or me? The hazards of memory are deadly.