Gloria delicately puts her hand on my arm. "Leslie, if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here. I don't know what you're going through, but …" She looks around, clearly not knowing what to say next.
"Thanks, I'm—"
"Don't say fine," Gloria interjects. "Be honest. In this moment. Maybe for the first time. You don't have to say it out loud, but at least be honest with yourself. And consider that what you've been telling yourself all this time may not be the truth. It might be your perception rather than reality."
Gloria's words ricochet through my head. I don't know if I've ever been honest with myself. "What do you mean?"
"I have an anxiety disorder and PTSD. I didn't before the incident, but thanks to my asshole ex-boyfriend and the even bigger asshole bitch he was cheating on me with, I do now. My irrational fear was that everyone had seen me naked. Likeeveryone. I mean, the video went viral, but there are still people in the world who haven't seen it. At least I hope there are. But by then I was convinced that everyone had seen me naked. Or was conspiring to see me. That I was constantly being filmed without my consent."
"Oh God, that sounds awful."
"It was. I barely left my house. When I did, I had to freakishly scour the place for hidden cameras. It didn't matter that I never found one. I had no trust. But the person I had the least trust in was me because I'd trusted him to begin with."
As confusing as that sentence is, her words make sense. But I don't see how they apply here. We're walking over to the dorm to get some lunch. "Yeah, but that's not what's going on with me."
Gloria smiles a little. "No, but you know as well as I do that you're not fine. And also, you know you are holding onto beliefs that may or may not be true. And those beliefs are causing you pain. Now, what do you want for lunch? Let me guess—a salad."
Shame instantly floods my cheeks. How did she figure it out?
"I've gotta run to my room first. It's that time of the month, you know?" I sprint away before she can say anything else. My heart pounds in my chest. I might as well be standing in front of her naked, my inner truth exposed like that.
She should understand a little more of how that feels.
I run up the stairs and turn quickly down the hall, running squarely into Josh. It's like in the train station, except this time I don't pull up short and I do manage to knock him over.
"Oooph." He exhales as we hit the floor with a thud, my body weight slamming onto him.
I want to immediately apologize, but the rawness of my emotions is too much. I collapse down onto Josh's chest and start crying.
Sobbing, if you really want to know.
I feel his arms snake around me, lightly rubbing my back. "You're okay, Leslie."
I put my hands on the floor above Josh's shoulders and push myself up a little. "But I'm not. I'm so not. Can't you see that?"
I look into his hazel eyes, which are intently staring into my own. Probably because I have him pinned to the floor and he literally has nowhere to go.
"What are you running from? What are you afraid of?"
Myself.
I stare at him, unable to articulate my feelings.
"Jesus, Leslie. For once in your life, be honest. What are you afraid of?”
This is the second time in a few minutes someone told me to be honest with myself. Perhaps it's time to heed that advice. "I'm afraid of failing."
"Haven't you already done that?" His words are not meant to hurt. They're plain and pointed. And true. "And what happened? Did the world end?"
I shake my head.
"So you failed at becoming a professional ballerina. Most people fail at that. You should take comfort in the fact that you were good enough to make it that far."
"Good enough isn't the best."
"So what? There's more to life than being the best, especially the way you've gone about it. Maybe you were trying to be the best at ballet, but you were totally sucking at everything else. Like being a friend and girlfriend."
The word shocks me, pulling me right out of the downward spiral I was careening through. "Girlfriend? You thought I was your girlfriend?"
