A Twisted Love Letter

Almost eight months ago I wrote a break-up letter to junk food. I read it now and think… “What was I thinking?”

Here’s the new letter:

Dear crap that I eat on a regular basis,

I feel like you are feeling like Justin Bobby. I’ve said a million times that I’m done, and each time I promise that this time, I really mean it. I’m done with you. Yet I always come crying back. I listen to your promises. I believe you when you tell me you won’t make me fat, and that you’ll make me feel better. I will reminisce about all the good times we’ve had, and want them back. So I’ll come back, with a stronger attachment than ever.

Why would you believe me when I say I’m done?

I’m going to be honest here, unhealthy eating. I’m not done. I love you so much. I love not having to say no. I love the freedom that comes with. I adore that total lack of self-discipline it takes to be wholly involved with you. It feels so easy to just let us abuse each other, with a wonderful devil-may-care attitude.

I don’t love the consequences that you come with, though. They are almost enough to make me leave you, again. They are almost enough to make me go back to the nice habits in my life, Eating Right and Exercise. Almost. I don’t love the way you make my pants feel. They feel gross all the time. I wish I could just wear sweatpants day in and day out, they feel so nice and comfortable. I don’t like the way my body feels. I feel slow, sluggish, and tired. I never feel good. I hate the way my body looks. I am back to avoiding mirrors, and I feel like nothing looks cute on me. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

I also hate the way that how I feel about my body and my relationship with you carries over into other aspects of my life. I don’t take good care of myself. I can find the time for sitting around  and for hanging with you, Unhealthy Eating, but I can’t find the time to take a walk?!?!

Yet I love you so much. I don’t know why. I truly don’t understand the hold you have on me, much in the way that Justin Bobby has a hold on Audrina. I don’t know why I can’t say no to you. Even when I spend six, eight, or twelve months apart, only coming around for naughty trysts every few months, I still come crawling back to you full time. I know I love the freedom from self-discipline and saying no that you offer. I know that I love the allure of laziness that  you tempt me with. I know that I love the ability to indulge my every emotional whim.

The consequences of such an affair, they are not insignificant. Yet I just can’t seem to care.

I know we need to end this soon. The trouble is, that it must be for good. And I don’t know how.

Yours,

Paige