Laying in his arms completes me.
We talked about it all, of what had come to pass and what was yet unknown.
Of life, fears and lies.
Of times when I didn't have to cry, and of times where crying was the only solace I could afford.
I was not alone.
It's all about fighting the urges.
To eat, not to eat, to purge... To run, to fear, to hide, to lie...
These conflictions are the very burdens of our souls.
But for what do we fight?
I believe we must all answer this question.
Today, which is now tomorrow in my part of the hemispheres, was the end of day seven.
Six more to go, and I'm feeling pretty confident.
I think one of the most monumental times in my life was realizing that I didn't have to hurt.
But I had dwelled in it so long, after finally encountering happiness, all I wanted to do was to return back to the solace of my misery. It's this idea that my eating disorder feeds off of.
However, there's one thing I'm afraid of. Everything is going wonderful in my life, but I'm relapsing.
These are two conflictions.
And I don't want to lose one or the other.
What am I talking about. I never had a choice.
Or a chance, for that matter.
How do you define such a thing?