I am reluctant to introduce any of these stories, I do not think it makes them better.
The following story is about having and maintaining a relationship with a person who has a fraught relationship with eating; it would be discourteous not to give you the opportunity to stop reading and go on doing something else, if you so wish.
She responds to invitations, yes, but just for a drink, I’ll eat beforehand.
After the drink, in the security and scrutiny of lifelong friendship, comes an admission of hunger. It is hard to tell me this. I am undisturbed by high winds – weight keeps my feet flat to the ground.
There is shame: that I haven’t stopped her from getting so thin. She is always tired, always cold. Shame that I am not thin like her. I am sturdy and run hot. Sometimes I boil with anger: I could reach out and snap her twiglet arm in my thick palm.