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“Then when?”
Moving so the food is out of her way, Fia gathers her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her kneecaps. With a deep breath, she remains quiet for a moment.
“I don’t know.” Her lip quivers, and I hate that I have to just sit here and watch, but I want to give her the space she needs if she feels like continuing.
Her inhale is shaky before she speaks.
“Life is complicated…”
Don’t I know it.
“It started out as just a thing to fit in. None of the dancers care about pre or post show meals. Everyone just survives off energy drinks and snack bars. It’s like some secret tour ritual I had no idea about until I got here, and I just fell into it.”
I remain silent as she picks through her food, giving her space to continue.
“But then I realized how much of a distraction it was.”
I have to hold in a gasp as her deeply painful words smack me in the face. The sour pit in the bottom of my stomach tightens as I try to understand why she would need a distraction.
“Distraction from what?”
“Everything,” she rasps, her hands twisting in her lap.
“Has something happened that I don’t know about?”
Her eyes meet mine, wide and watery, before they fall back to her lap. My mind races about what could’ve happened here that I didn’t see, or that she didn’t tell me.
“Not here, I just… Everyone has shit they need to work through, and I’m not the best at addressing mine, so this has helped me forget, I guess.”
Questions float through my head. So many things I want to know, but I’m afraid if I ask, it’ll only make her more distant.
“Is it worth it?”
Fia’s eyebrows scrunch, searching for further reaction. I’m not praising her like I normally would, not telling her how perfect her body is because it’s no use right now. If she’s made up her mind, I need to know if she’s achieved what she thought she would.
“What?” she harps.
“Has not taking care of yourself, forcing yourself to forget by only causing yourself more pain been worth it?
“I mean, it makes it hurt less…sometimes.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes skate mindlessly, surveying all the food on the comforter beneath her.
“What hurts?” I plead.
“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” she croaks, small tears fluttering from her lashes as she looks at me. “You promised that the second it felt like more, we’d stop all of this.”
The grip inside my chest tightens. Did she just admit to this being more?
“I don’t have the power to stop this, Sofia baby.”
“Stop,” she whispers.
“Talk to me, Fia, why are you doing this to yourself? Is changing yourself worth losing yourself?”
“What if I was already lost?” A sob rings from her throat, and I want nothing more than to hold her. “Parts of me changed years ago, and I’ve been lost ever since. This seems like a big deal now, but I would’ve grown tired of it eventually. It just takes away the pain a little, and I guess, sometimes, that’s all I’m searching for.”
In this moment, whatever pain she’s talking about feels like it’s transferred to me. A weight so heavy, I know with certainty she can’t carry it alone.
