The thick and sweet liquid drips on my lips. I couldn't stop myself from licking it and tasting it again with my tongue.

I pursed my lips and closed my eyes tightly.

"Hmm…" I slightly moaned.

"What the hell?"

I opened my eyes and saw Lindsey in front of me, her brows raised and her eyes full of confusion.

I don't know if she's grossed out by the moan or what.

"What?"

"Why the heck are you moaning like that?"

"It's good," I said.

"Yes, I know I made that, so for sure, it's good, but why do you need to moan like that?"

"Like what? It's normal."

"No, you sounded like you were penetrated by something!"

I laughed. "Penetrated by a pancake."

"Eww, gross, Tamantha!" She giggled.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. Lindsey doesn't like it when I say those things, but if she tells them, it's okay. I don't get her sometimes.

I stuffed my mouth with pancakes and chewed faster than I ever could. I feel like I forgot how good pancakes taste when they're hot. Because I ate it late at night, I usually ate it cold and paired it with whip cream, syrup, or whatever I could find in the fridge that was sweet and went well with the pancakes.

I don't know what went through Lindsey's head to make pancakes today; she usually eats oatmeal, which she learned to make online about healthy diets.

"Tamantha, slow down; you might choke on munching too much." "You're not even breathing," she said.

"Are you crazy?" "If I'm not breathing, then I'm dead."

"Oh, stop being sarcastic, Tamantha!"

"I'm hungry, Lindsey."

She looks at me. "It looks like it but slows down. "I don't want you to die just for eating fast."

"No one dies because of that."

"Yes, someone did!"

"Who?" I asked.

"I don't know."

I sighed and stopped chewing for a second. My eyes caught the reflection of myself in the mirror near me. The apartment has a small kitchen, but there's a huge mirror.

I stared at myself, my gaze traveling down to my syrup-covered double chin, then back to my cheeks, and finally to my flabby arms.

I looked at Linsey washing the plates on the sink. She's thin, but not too thin. Her long blonde hair is tied up in the back so it doesn't get wet while washing the dishes.

My eyes squinted when I noticed her skin gets tanned, but she was not tanned; she had fair skin.

Oh, I remember she went to the tanning salon with her boyfriend last week. So that's probably because of it.

I look again in the mirror and stare at myself. At the same time, everyone around me is glowing. I'd barely lit up.

What's happening to me?

They say that when you're twenty, you'll figure out everything and have a lot of fun. It's your best years, but I can't feel any happiness in my twenties. Am I aging wrong, or what?

Maybe because I don't take care of myself that much, but I do love myself, so I guess it's just my weight problem. I overate, and I feel like I'm always hungry, or maybe it's just because of the videos I watched online.

I'm not used to being this heavy; I used to weigh 55 kilograms, but now I'm somewhere between 70 and 80 kilograms. I don't want to measure it because I know I will be disappointed.

I don't know. I feel so crazy about it. I might have an eating disorder, but I'm too scared to visit a doctor. I don't want to find out the truth because, as they say, it hurts.

But I'm hoping that I don't have it. At least I'm aware of what's happening to me; the only thing lacking is the action to do the right thing to change my life.

But how can I even start with a small step if my feelings and old habits are stuck in the past? It's not just stuck in there; I think it's cemented now because of what happened. I don't even know if I will have a chance to move forward with my life. All of my problems seem to be weighing me down.

"I thought you were going to diet and lose weight?"But here you are, stuffing your mouth with all this sweetness."

I sighed. "It's your food." "You don't have healthy food, so I have no choice."

"You are aware that you have a choice."

Tams. I know you are going through a hard breakup, but—"

I cut her off.

"It's not a hard breakup," I said.

She raised her brows. "Really? "Are you sure?"

"Of course, how could I be so uncertain?"

"Alright." She shrugged. I know she knows I don't want to talk about my breakup anymore. It's been a month. I don't care what is happening with Zach or if she's with the girl she cheated on. I don't care if they have their best life or if they're going to get married.

I don't care. I don't want to watch it because I hate Zach. I hate him for ruining our relationship, which I thought would last forever. I hate him for making me feel so unworthy. I hate him for making me feel so unwanted and unattractive.

I'm not unattractive! I'm just like this.

I stared at the mirror. If I hadn't gained weight, maybe he wouldn't have cheated. But I don't fuck with that bullshit. A true man will not cheat on you because he loves you for who you are; he will be there to support you, not to look around and fuck the first woman he sees.

It's absurd.

I hate him to the core. Fucking liar and cheater! They both deserve each other, whoever that girl is. I'm good without him now. I can enjoy my food better because he's not around to tell me how much he hates seeing me eat the foods I like.

Fuck him!