professionalamateur
Mary sat down, put her elbows to her knees and began to weep. This is what growing up is all about, her father told her. Saying good-bye, doing what is best for business. They're just animals after all, nothing to get attached about. For hours she cried. Not just for the loss of her pet, but for the loss of something else. She just couldn't put her finger on it. After the tears had passed, she looked up onto a nearby framed photograph and held it close. Mary had a little lamb. Had.
Sweat raced down the side of my face, spattering onto the black pavement that rolled beneath me like an early spring rain. My heart raced, but the treadmill raced faster. A burning sensation came about; from my feet to my legs, to my chest and to my mind. This pain. This bitter, hateful, stinging pain. One day, I'll overcome it. One day, I'll be strong and lean and beautiful. But I don't think I'll ever overcome the pain that other people's eyes bring me.