Down For The Count

I'm Not Okay

I looked down at the card, two tiny cartoon tacos with the words "Sorry for your loss" printed on the front. I pulled the card open, seeing everyone's name signed around bold letters reading "Always here if you want to taco bout it".

"This is disgustingly corny." I said, trying to hide how much the card was tugging at my heartstrings, my eyes welling up.

They got me a card.

"See? I knew she would hate it. I said you would hate it, but they insisted and I-"

"No, no, I love it. Thank you." I smiled, cutting off Daveed's speech.

"Oh, cool! I picked it out, I knew you'd love it." Daveed said, and I laughed a little at his sudden change of heart regarding the card.

"Thank you, Daveed."

"Do not thank him, he's been making fun of us all day because of that card." Renée mumbled before turning to me. She offered me the same sad smile that everyone has been giving me thus far. Surprisingly though it didn't annoy me. Renée's smile was comforting.

"Hey, rehearsal room has food." I heard Lin say as he appeared in the doorway, looking over at me. "You should come get some. I don't mind carrying you out of bed and helping you with your shoes, but I draw the line at hand-feeding you."

But before I could even comment that I wasn't hungry, Phillipa's arm fell around me again as she started to lead me out of the dressing room. Lin seemed very happy that I was coming to get food, walking ahead of us.

"I'm really not hungry." I whispered to Pippa.

"We don't need another bathroom visit like last time. Please at least try to eat."

She was right, I didn't want to end up in a bathroom stall throwing up like last time.

I don't even remember the last time I've had food, truthfully. Lin and Vanessa have always been super strict about my eating, but they've gone really easy on me lately because of Alex's passing, I guess. Which I really appreciate. My stomach is in a whole lot of pain all the time, eating won't do it any good.

We finally made it to the rehearsal room, even more people in here than down in the girls' dressing room. I got more sad smiles, more hugs, more of the "you'll be okay" response.

Just the sight of the food made me feel sick.

It's not that it didn't look good. It's that it looked too good, and that was the bit that my stomach wasn't so happy about.

Phillipa was saying something, but I couldn't hear her. All I could think about was the pain in my stomach that was increasing the more I stood there.

I groaned, pulling away from Phillipa and waking out of the rehearsal room, making my way to the bathroom. It was the same familiar feeling that I got everyday, nothing different. It just isn't the most pleasant feeling in the world when it happens.

I knelt down once I had gotten into one of the stalls, immediately throwing up into the toilet.

I didn't get sick this morning, I just assumed that today I would catch a break. Today I wouldn't get sick and my stomach wouldn't tear me apart.