I didn’t want to.
But I was stressed out, I was panicking. Jittery to the point that I couldn’t think coherently.
Exams. Too much materials. Possibility of being barred from exam. Pain. Stupid doctors. Stupid hostel management. Stupid flasher and his ground floor preference. Stupid everything.
So I had to.
This morning, I locked the ladies’ shut, put my bag on the sink, turned the tap running, and vomited.
My stomach hurt like hell.
My eyes were teary.
My hands were shaking.
And I felt vulnerable. Lost. Spent.
I laid my face on top of my bag, bending my body suit the sink’s height. Holding myself together. I was crumbling; I felt too much pain. Too much loneliness. Too much pressure.
I wanted to talk to someone. Scold me, slap me, hug me, hold me, whatever you wish. I just needed somebody to accompany while I gather my scattered thoughts back. But the first somebody I called was hiking. The second one had class. And I ran out of people in my trust list.
And what do I tell anyways?
“Good morning, this is your future wife speaking. Well I am glad to inform you, my love, that I hurt myself again today. I’m feeling too much pain and I want you to bear some of the burden. Would you please? Because that’s what I’d love to do, hurting you with my own pain.”
“Hey there, this is your friend speaking. I know there’s a big test tonight, which we have to take together, and you have to cram up all the infos and acts and cases and you’re probably stressed out yourself, but you know, I just feel like adding up to your headache with my own vulnerability. Could you please run out for a while from class and come to level two ladies’ which, by the way, I locked and am not going to open?”
In the end it was better, alone at the bathroom sink.
Crying alone, shaking alone, being painful alone.