As strange as that sounds, I am. This is not any old date with some silly boy - this is a dinner date with my best friend from high school. I've seen her all of three times since I started my recovery. We got coffee about a month ago, and she came into my work to say hi about a week or so ago. We've been chatting on facebook and such. It is really nice to reconnect with her, especially because we actually live in the same town. I don't have to drive three towns over to hang out with her.
I'm still scared. The last half of our friendship was rather tumultuous because of my eating disorder. I'm nervous that she will judge what I choose to eat, or that she will watch me to see if I'm still eating with anorexic habits. I know its silly - I'll eat how I always do (I am still a rather precise eater, I am the only person I know who can eat buffalo wings and only need one napkin to keep themselves clean) and I'll order whatever sounds good to me. I know once I get there, and we sit down and start talking, all of my worries will disappear. But alas, I feel like I'm going on my very first dinner date all over again. Its kind of cute I suppose. I just want her to see ME, as I am now and not look at me and still see anorexic-Tori. I mean obviously, if she asked me to hang out again, she must see that I am back to being my old self again. But y'know, sometimes I can't help myself. I missed her. It hurt when we lost touch, we had been friends since we were 13. The last time we sat down to chat, she told me she was sorry for what happened. I understood. When you're 19, you don't want mortality staring you in the face. You don't want to watch your friend - one whom you admired and respected and used to wish you could be like - destroy herself. I distanced myself because I didn't want anyone to know what I was going through. We were both at fault.
And now hopefully, our friendship can be rekindled. We were inseparable you know. We'd walk 3 miles to her house after school because they wouldn't let me take the bus with her. When things were bad at my house, her family let me stay whole weekends there. We chased wild turkeys on Academy Hill and ran all the way to the abandoned theater when they retaliated. We dyed each others' hair when we were 15. Mine was dyed black on top, with turquoise underneath, and hers black with purple streaks. We were crazy kids who wore plaid skirts, ripped fishnets and Converse. We went to local punk and hardcore shows together, and started our own mosh pits. We were awesome haha. We stood out together, and we had a blast. I look back now and realize how much I loved my life then. And I'm so glad I have the same love for life now. The only difference is that now, I have far more confidence in myself.
Me. At 17. With hot pink hair. I'd have posted the one with me and my friend, but I don't want to infringe privacy like that. Obv there were multiple hair dying experiments haha. I believe we did hers midnight blue that day. XD Eating disorder aside, I've always been fierce as hell. I just embrace it now. ^.^
Why Can I Only Love the Broken?
3 months ago