The food laughs at me.

My stomach growls, wishing to be filled and put out of hungry misery…but I cannot condone its wish.

Through the silver utensils, I find my reflection, and I am reminded. I cannot eat, no, for it will only bring me pain.

“You’re doing good,” the voice in my head says.

People at the table look at me with displeasure, but I do not care.

They do not know—

They do not understand.

I have suffered enough all ready. If I give in and eat this feast of food, all the damage and pain I went through will be for nothing.

I can’t—I can’t let my suffering and agony go to waste…

It is better to waste this food, rather than waste my pain.

And so as clueless eyes judge upon me, I remind myself, “They do not know nor understand. Food is your enemy, so fight it and withstand its luring voice.”