While you might look at the months ahead and see feasts, and shared tables, and celebratory treats, and memories made in the kitchen. I see hours needed on the treadmill, and calories needing to be logged, and pounds gained, and hours crying on the bathroom floor. I no longer see the holidays as a joyous time full of laughs but rather as a 3 month long depressive purge.
She had this obsession with the sea, I didn't understand. She spent all summer there, laying in the sand. I never liked the beach. Or at least I never liked the effect it had on her; how she counted every calorie so she could wear a bikini, how her heart-shaped sunglasses covered her eyes, her stunning eyes.
I never fully understood her.
Perhaps I should've spent less time trying to figure her out and more time by her side. She wasn't one of my experiments, she used to clarify that all the time. And maybe she was right.
**Now that she's gone there's nothing left to try to understand.