Painfully obvious to everyone but me.
The bunny said, “Hi, I’m Sadie. Are you sitting alone because you want to or do you want a friend?”
“Hi, Sadie, I’m Penny. I chose to sit alone. Thank you for asking.”
She retreated as simply as she’d arrived.
Wow. I loved that it wasn’t a big deal.
Taking bites of my food in a clockwise pattern around my plate, I considered how I would have handled Everest, Atlas, or Phoenix asking if they could sit with me?
And would it be okay to let them sit with me, given that I’d just said I wanted to sit alone? I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was being rude or didn’t like bunnies. But at the same time, the thought of being near the three of them, or even one of them, was exactly the kind of experience I wanted.
Perhaps I could try sitting with people at my next meal, or at least not so far away.
The distance had its advantages though. I watched as a Dom fed a sub, or at least I assumed that was their relationship, and imagined Atlas feeding me.
Feeding fantasy unlocked!
Of course, fantasizing was a lot easier than doing. The messy hay thing was proof of that. It would likely kill the mood if I explained my plate pattern, necessary size of bites, and need for textures never to mix… all of the reasons my mom considered me a picky eater.
But if Atlas was holding the other end of the fork, I could try to stretch my rules.
Ding. Ding. Ding.The timer on my watch alerted me that I could go back to my room. How long had I stared? Was it obvious that I was staring at the Dom and sub?
I shifted my gaze to my plate, gobbled a few more bites in careful order, and relaxed into another idea.
Pretending that Atlas was feeding me, I put a little bite of egg white with a piece of hashbrown on my fork and brought it to my mouth. Chewing became a forced process. My stomach once again disagreed with food.
A shiver ran up my spine. Slimy egg mixed with crispy hashbrown. Yuck. I needed to spit it out. Would anyone care? Would they be more offended if I barfed?
Try new things. I reminded myself. Mixing textures was one of the things I’d put on my list of items I wanted my therapist to help me with. The dynamic duo of slimy and crispy hadn’t been conquered yet.
But every previous combo I’d tried had made it down the hatch.
I didn’t want to seem disrespectful, so I forced myself to swallow.
Anxiety rose from the depths of my gut. My mouth watered. I clenched my teeth together and inhaled deeply through my nose.
Was I cut out for a place like this? Or would I find the limits of people who seem to have no limits?
Fear circled me, stalking its prey.
No, I couldn’t let this spiral go any further.
Gulping down the rest of my amazingly tasty pomegranate juice, I grabbed the edges of my tray to leave.
“Are you okay?” a kind voice called from beside me.
I met the woman’s gaze and nodded.
Everything about her screamed kindness as she stood there holding her tray. “Hi, I’m Catherine, one of the counselors at Rawhide Ranch.”
“Hi, I’m Penny.” The shakiness of my voice answered her previous question about me being okay. I really didn’t want to explain that my body was trying to expel the demon duo of egg and hashbrown. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
“I’m available to talk, if you’d like.”
“Thank you, but I’m practicing my coping mechanisms.” A burp escaped me, and I let go of one side of my tray to rush a hand over my mouth. “Excuse me.”
