Visitor

Today I've had my first visitor for a while.

I don't usually go to the visitors' room. I'm usually sensible enough to know that there is no point. But today the intercom in my room rang.

- You have a visitor.

I got out of bed and pressed the button.

- No, I don't.
- Don't be stubborn, Miss Leigh. We're sending her in.

Her? I thought that, if it were my mother, I would punch her in the face. Of course, it wasn't. A nurse let her in and she stopped just inside the door, waiting for it to close behind her.

- I'm surprised they let you alone with people...
- I'm not a violence risk. If I was violent then you wouldn't even be allowed in here in case I was hiding a shiv.

I sat back on my bed. She leaned against the door and lit up a cigarette. She offered one to me, which I declined because I hate her pretentious French cigarettes. I just watched her.

Her name is Laney. She has been my best and worst friend all of my life. It's always strange, to me, how the people you love most can hurt you the deepest. I guess, the more they know, the more they can use against you. Laney always knows my kryptonite at any given moment. She's skinny. She used to be fat. We both were. Then something clicked. I couldn't tell you in much confidence who lost weight first, we both had our reasons, but she lost weight a lot slower than me. It really pissed her off.

I hadn't seen her in all the time I've been here. It's weird to see her. She's changed a bit. Her hair used to be dark brown, and shoulder length. Now she's suicide blonde and her hair falls down her back in kinky curls. She was wearing a pair of grey fleece tracksuit bottoms and they hung off her beautifully jutting hips, like her black vest top hung from her shoulder blades and collarbones. She looked sexy. The sexiest slob in the world. She tried a lot harder when she was fat. She'd wear really pretty dresses and little cardigans, leggings and cute shoes. She'd do her make up flawlessly. She tried. And she sometimes succeeded in convincing even herself that she was pretty. But now all the make up she had on was a crayoned-on layer of eye liner around each eye.

- Why are you here, Laney?
- Always so polite... I'm here because I'm getting married.

I looked at her as if she'd just caught fire.

- You're getting married.
- Yep.
- Last time I checked you were single.
- Last time you checked was, like, three years ago.
- Well, sorry, but I've been a little busy.
- Yeah... sitting around talking about your feelings must be exhausting for you. Anyway, I want you to be at my wedding, I want you to be a bridesmaid.
- What, because you know I'd hate it?
- No, because I love you, dumbass. And it would be weird if you weren't there. I'd spend the whole time wishing you were. I've already spoken to your doctor. The fat guy with the beard. He said you could be out on day releases by next January. You might even be out of here.

She took a deep drag on her poncey cigarette.

- His name is River, by the way.

She said, as she exhaled. I snorted.

- So he's a dude? And he has a stupid hipster name. Nice.
- It's his actual name. Though, he is a little bit of a hipster. He wears douchey glasses and reads French poetry and has a tweed jacket which he only wears "ironically". But he loves me, he's dynamite in the sack and he hates getting head, so it's a win all round.
- Do you love him?
- Yeah. I actually do.
- And it wasn't your usual, "I love you because you'll have me"?
- Nope. I actually liked him on impact. First second I saw him.
- Well... then best wishes. And I'll try to be there.

Then Laney smiled. She stubbed her noxious cigarette out on my wall and jumped onto my bed, giving me a massive hug. Bony hugs are the best.

- Thank you. I appreciate the intention.
- Why are you getting married in January anyway?
- Why not?
- Well, you always wanted to get married outdoors. And have wildflowers in jam jars. And tealights everywhere. What happened?
- Reality happened, I guess. And, besides, January gives me the perfect amount of time.
- For what?
- The diet change to kick in.

I looked at her, and poked her hard in the ribs, which she didn't appreciate.

- What the fuck?

She said, unimpressed, rubbing her rib which was probably already blossoming with a bruise.

- You can't lose ANY MORE. What are you now, 100 pounds? 95? You'll end up in a place like this with a tube through your nose.
- 96, actually. I overshot slightly. But I'm not trying to get thinner, stupid. I'm actually going to start gaining.

Now I really looked at her.

- You? Gain? You've been losing weight since we were 19, why would you start gaining now?
- It's one of River's conditions. He won't marry me like this. He wants me healthy. So, I'm gaining 30lbs.
- Holy fuck...
- Yeah, I know. I'm not happy about it. But I love him. And I want to be with him. And, holy hell, I can't believe I'm saying this, but we want babies.
- You want to adopt.
- I know, but he doesn't. Not exclusively. And you know... I don't mind.

I pushed her off my bed.

- Get out.
- What is your problem?
- Leave.
- Dylan!

I grabbed the red emergency cord by my bed and yanked it.

- They'll come and make you leave within the next three minutes. You can leave, or you can be made to leave. Your call.

Laney picked herself up off the floor and looked at me. She didn't seem to know what to say. So she just walked out. I think she was crying. I know I was.

You expect your friends to change over time. But my God...

When we were growing up I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be thin. I wanted to be beautiful and complicated and have people fall for me that I didn't need. I eventually wanted a handsome man or stunning woman to fall for me so completely, and I for them, that we would choose to commit forever. And it would be forever. And we would adopt babies who needed homes and I would always be thin. That was what Laney wanted too.

But now she had it. Everything. She was even thin, for now. She had everything she ever wanted. Everything WE ever wanted. So why did it make me so angry?

I've been thinking back to what happened with me and Ketch. I don't want to "get better". Not if that means getting fat. I would rather stay here forever if it meant I could always feel my ribcage. But I want him to get better. And maybe that's more than love.

I guess I'd have to ask River about that.

Eurgh.