Dear María

Alex and Jack didn’t stop their constant tickle attacks, but that was okay. We continued to play cards and I taught the guys to play Four and they taught me how to play Poquer more… professionally, as they put it.
However, I didn’t feel completely right. My diet was horrible, I seemed to have forgotten my guidelines completely and had breakfast, lunch every day, and sometimes dinner. I couldn’t keep my mind off calories. Calories, calories, calories. Everything had calories. I was constantly wondering how many calories did something have, even if it was a simple chewing gum! How many calories does this have? How long can it take me to burn them? How much time do I have to burn those calories? I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up and I felt heavier and like a failure every day. I didn’t tell Jack anything, though. He didn’t know about my issues with food, and I was not ready to tell him.
To be honest, I was scared. Scared he’d leave me and tell me I’m crazy and never speak to me again. I didn’t and couldn’t lose him, I’d wreck me if it happened and I’m pretty sure I’d relapse, or try to kill myself again, most likely to get it right this time.
I didn’t know why I was being so paranoid, I’d always put on a fake smile and the guys would believe it, at least for now. But the only thing I was 100% sure about was that I need to throw up again, soon, or I’ll drive myself insane.
So I started to make myself throw up when the guys were at shoundcheck, or after having lunch, I’d excuse myself and go to the toilet and throw up. Most of the times, we didn’t have dinner, so I was saved. But there were night in which we went out to a formal place or somewhere nice and that day, I didn’t have the oportunity to puke.
However, there was this night we were staying in Austin, Texas, in which I just ate too much. Just… Too much.
Everyone except me and Rian were drunk, so we had to drag their sorry asses to the bus. Rian was too exhausted and went to sleep. As soon as I heard everyone snoring, I tip toed to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.
I opened the small window a bit and let the water run slowly, so the bathroom didn’t smell like someone died in here. I kneeled down next to the toilet and pushed two fingers down my throat and looked for this sensible spot that would make me gag at first, but adding the correct pressure, it would bring back what I’d eaten.
Bingo! I gagged and then tried again, adding a bit of strength, and a bit of acid from the stomach started to go up my oesophagus. The third time I tried, a big piece of food made its way up and out of my body.
When I felt empty enough, I flushed the toilet, cleaned my face and hands, and swallowed as much as extra acid I could before brushing my teeth twice.
I opened the door and found Alex leaned against it. He almost fell flat on his face, but managed to balance himself.
“Oh, hey, Alex” I tried to sound casual.
“What were you doing?” he raised an eyebrow, serious.
“I… hmm…”
“Don’t lie to me” he frowned.
“I-I was…” I couldn’t say a thing.
What could I say? What did I have to say? Tears started to well up in my eyes.
“Hold on a second, are you pregnant?” his eyes went wide.
“What makes you think that?” I tried to control my voice.
“Well, I just heard you puke your guts out, you took your time to come out, you’ve been acting weird these days, and you eat quite a bit more than everyone else, lately” he said.
You eat more than everyone else. Acting weird these days. I heard you puke. Those bits were stuck in my head. So I wasn’t been so careful as I thought, and on top of it, it looked like I was pregnant. Fucking fantastic! That meant I was getting fatter by the second.
Fat, fat, fat. That’s what you are, fat. You are fat, not only the adjective, but you’re becoming the noun, like the actual mass. You’re a fucking mass of fat, you disgusting and worthless piece of shit.
My vision became blurry and I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. I put my hands on my mouth to hold back a sob, whilst I started to shake, very agressively. The whole bus seemed to be crashing down on me and I could hear nothing. I felt Alex shake me, but I didn’t answer. Please, body, respond. But it didn’t. I was about to black out when I heard something.
“María, breathe” I heard Alex’s voice like some distant call.
I tried to do what he asked me to do and my short and nervous breaths became deeper and calmer. When I felt my body relax, tears were streaming down my face but my vision became normal and I buried my head into Alex’s chest, he hugged me tightly for a second and put a hand carefully behind me and lead me to the ‘living room’. I sat down next to him.
“Does Jack know?” he asked.
“What?”
“You’re pregnant and have anxiety” he pointed out.
“Alex, I’m not pregnant and I definetly haven’t got anxiety” I snapped back, despite my shaky voice.
“You should’ve seen yourself” he sounded concerned, “You looked like you were about to black out”
“I was, but that doesn’t mean I have anxiety”
“María, I know someone’s having a panic attack when I see it, and you just had one” he looked at me, dead serious.
“Whatever” I whispered, mostly to myself.
“And if you’re not pregnant, then why were you puking your guts out?” he asked, “You didn’t get drunk” he pointed out.
“I… Something I ate made me feel sick” I tried my best to sound convincing. He looked at me for a moment.
“Bullshit, tell me” he insisted, “I’m sure is not that-“ he stopped himself, “Oh my god, no, no, no. Tell me you don’t make yourself throw up”
The blood drained from my face and I froze, but quickly recovered.
“No” I whispered.
Alex seemed to froze aswell to take in how and what I just said. He looked at me and hugged me, tighter than last time.
“Shit” he whispered, “Why, María?”
“I-I just… don’t-“ I wiped away a tear, “I don’t feel… good in my own s-skin” I hate myself, I wanted to say, but that sounded too direct and too harsh, given the situation.
“María, you’re one of the hottest women I’ve ever seen or met, how can you not feel good in you skin?” he paused and shook his head in disbelief, “Fuck, forget what that douche of your ex said to you, forget the hate comments, you’re better than that. Much better” he said and pulled me closer to him.
“Thanks, Lex” I whispered, “But it’s kind of hard ot let go of old habits"
“I know” he sighed, “How long have you been doing it?”
“I started ten years ago, but I haven’t thrown up as much on tour” I confessed.
“And does Jack know?”
“He knows everything about my past, except my eating issues” I said and turned quickly to him, “Alex” he turned to me, “Please, don’t tell him” I begged, “He’s the only thing I can’t afford to lose right now” I cried.
He pulled me into a hug and let me cry for a while.
“Please” I kept repeating.
“Alright” he inhaled, “But I’m giving you the end of this tour and a week to tell him, or I’ll tell him myself” he said.
I nodded in understandment; they were best friend since high school, keeping a secret from Jack was something he couldn’t do so easily; it was the least I could do.
“Thankyou, Alex” I sniffed.
“No problem” he gave me a small smile, “But… dont do it again, alright? And if you do, try to walk it with someone before doing anything” I nodded.
“What have you done to yourself?” he whispered to himself.
“I don’t know” I shook my head sloswly, "I think I’m going to sleep” I yawned.
“Yeah, me too” he chuckled softly, “Good night, blondie”
I rolled my eyes.
“Night, camel” I smirked.
“You meant caramel” he said in a sassy tone, “Like my fabulous hair, right?"
“No, I meant camel” I smiled, “Night, Lex”

Notes

I'm feeling like shit. Ugh.
So... Alex knows :o

Title credit: Miss Nothing by The Pretty Reckless.