“It’s ok. I’ll be fine.”

The words I typed while tears simultaneously stream down my face, mascara burning my eyes. I couldn’t let him down with the night’s truth. I ate dinner tonight and immediately felt sick, and then made myself sick. This might be the worst start to a new year I have ever had. Guilt and shame riddle my body enough to make it impossible to tell anyone. I needed to get rid of it. I had to. Another secret for the books. Another step backwards. It’s not a step backwards, you’ll lose weight more quickly this way. It’s ok, just move on and do a better job of eating less tomorrow. 

They want pizza on Friday. Part of me wants to be able to completely meltdown to them, because they will at least understand the loneliness of separation. But a bigger part of me wants to show them that I am as strong as they think I am and that I am doing totally fantastic, which requires me to eat the pizza. 

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