Brave Girl

A Story by Gold Bird

Do you remember how you used to say that you fell in love with me courage?

I need to tell you something about it.

I am a brave girl, indeed. I am the kind of person who is not afraid to get drunk and shout all my secrets to the moon. All of the stars know my secrets by now, I told them all. They know that I was never scared of love, I was never scared of you, I knew heartbreak was our finish line but I didn't really care.

And so on. I've jumped of an airplane, five thousand meters above the ground. I've swam with sharks. I've kissed strangers, I've walked alone in the streets at 4 a.m., I've confessed my hate for many people, I've lied down next to you every single night knowing that it could happen that in the next morning, you would not remember my name.

You said you fell in love with my courage, but I need to tell you something.

I am sick. I am not scared of sharks, or airplanes.

I'm scared of food.

I am frightened by it. I have been trying to hide from it for three years now. And I find it funny how, if you're scared of bees, or dogs, everybody knows it, yet if you're scared of food, something that is present each and every single day of our lives, no one notices it.

Your brave girl hates food. I feel disgusted when I eat, yet I'm addicted. Do you know how it feels like? It's as if your body was addicted to cutting your skin with knives, and you had to put up with that every day, because you have just no control. I eat until my stomach hurts, my mouth feels disgusted and I see everything dizzy. Then I throw up.

Easy, isn't it?

But that's not brave.

Sorry.