I laid next to her dressed in full, my arm wrapped about her nude fit waist. It was the first time in two depressive weeks that I have allowed us to sleep next to one another. I thought the intensity would fade; I was hopeful that the competition would drift and not land dead-center on the one woman whom I should feel at ease. The tension was breathing all its own, she knew there was something - she asked consecutive questions, with tears sliding down both sides of her face, my own tears being held in at best. I could not respond. My mind wanted too badly to run and hide, far away from the ponders, the bedroom, the complex itself - far away from the trapped world in which I reside so uncomfortably - but my body remained beside her, voice still silent, we finally fell into a stressed sleep.
I could not tell her. How do You tell Your partner that they are triggering You; how do You look Your partner in the eye and confess You are in competition with their appeal in the same manner they see You struggle with others of extreme thinness and Beauty. And how, when the canvas is finally stretched - Truth painted on smoothly, how do You continue; how is it You maintain a healthy relationship in such an atmosphere, when meteors exist.
When I look at her, I see a Beautiful young woman whose efforts to maintain her athletic figure, will only benefit her. I felt lucky to have her - she is much too gorgeous for me, but I came to recognize our appeal evened out. And this was the mentality until just recently, upon making a strong attempt to recover, I fell short of the necessary determination and became worse. As I fell, she fell too - into a category in which I never meant for her to be. Now, upon having her before me, I scope her figure; I set goals comparative to that which she already contains and I feel I must obtain. I have become overwrought and passive aggressive in her presence in wanting nothing more than to look and be better than her. I am timid and ashamed. These thoughts, this mentality - it will not cease.