| Written by Diana, on 28-04-2002 17:43 |
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Panic has set in. In just one hour I leave for dinner at a restaurant with family, something I haven't done since this all started. To sit down with food all around, order something, and pretend to eat it. All eyes will be on me tonight, am I capable of feigning normalcy? Can I look at a menu without panicking? The biggest test of all, can I eat the food, with a look of contentment rather than a look of guilt? Somehow, sometime long ago, everyone came to believe they could make fun of me all night long and I'd walk away without a scratch. I used to be able to. Unfortunately the jokes started last night and with that head start, I know I can't do it anymore. Food jokes and lectures from my grandmother, something I don't need today. The ongoing joke they seem to have, which I don't quite understand, is that for some reason I want dessert. How can I tell them it's no longer funny? I'm sick of lying there wounded and bleeding while jokes just roll off their tongue with such ease. They don't even realize what they're doing. "Oh she's tough, she can take it" is what my father told my grandfather over the phone last night. Open your eyes and see! I'm not the little girl anymore who can shrug it off. When you cut me I bleed. But this time, the blood is real.
Last update: 28-04-2002 17:43
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