Vermilion

Vita

As soon as Justine returned home, he broke the news to her and we became an official couple. 

I felt life returning to my starved body. I threw away the razors. I breathed in deep. 

We drove down country roads in the summer sun, blaring Slipknot and laughing. We told secrets and kissed in the rain. He waxed poetic over my beauty. I wasn’t beautiful. Really. Was I? Maybe I was. 

I started to believe him. 

And then one day. There’s always “one day”, isn’t there? He told me he had been talking to Justine again. He felt that he still loved her, but he loved me, too. He asked for a pause in our relationship so he could spend time with both of us, without guilt, and choose his favorite. 

I became a dog in a contest. When he asked me to perform, I did. I wanted to win. I felt shame and humiliation. I felt less than and unworthy. I spent “her days” alone and afraid. But before the trial week was up, he ultimately chose me. 

But did you, really?

I was awarded best in show, I guess. My self worth nonexistent, I still felt like I’d won some great prize.

My mom decided I needed a summer job, so I applied at an Italian fast food chain, and got the job. The cash I made went to gas and cigarettes for Scott. 

During the two months that I worked there, all of the guys noticed me. They flirted. They bought me lunch. They made me feel worthy of attention. And then I would leave and go pick up my homeless bum of a boyfriend. What was I doing? Some days we even spent time with Justine. He hadn’t really chosen me, after all. I gathered up some self worth from somewhere, and broke up with him.