I remember when you would put your hand on my thigh while we traveled in the car, while we were sitting on the couch, while we were at a restaurant. Your eyes would catch mine and I would instantly know I was beautiful.

I remember when you would sweetly, quietly, kiss me goodbye, without fail, every morning before you left work so early in the morning.

I remember when you would make dinner.

This is so much more difficult without you.

The air is crisp and the sun is alive. I acquired a cold. The combination of the weather, my immune system’s sudden death, and the ever-present feeling of missing someone you love takes me back to Colorado every time I step outside. A flood of memories comes rushing back and I become distant. I feel an odd combination of yearning to go back to the mountains and sadness for a time in my life when I was very sick.

And just like that I am trapped. Lunch and dinner are such a struggle. I figure something out. I keep eating and eating and eating. When are you going to stop eating? I can’t figure out how to completely give up. It feels like an equal failure to eat what I need as it does to not. Sometimes I am so hungry during the day, I would give anything to be alone for a moment so I can cry, because I want to eat, oh how I do, but the deals I make are so corrupted and the punishments are so harsh. Even if I don’t follow through, it’s such a great debate.

I’m not falling apart. I’ve been using a lot of glue though.

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