i let the alcohol slide easily. i eat salty full fat chips for dinner. i gained all the weight back and maybe a pound or more too.

it’s been 4 weeks since i left my father’s suburban house. almost 8 weeks since my mother died. the one proud moment for my father was that i, his overweight daughter, lost 10 pounds while staying with him.

i tried so hard to keep the weight off when i left. remembering how i starved myself when i was with him. when i felt hungry i drank water. when i felt hungry i drank coffee. i ate what he ate. fish cooked in lemon juice. fresh fruit. maybe some bread and cheese. i would maybe eat with him every other day.

i try to deaden my painful heart that longs for my mother. she didn’t mind me fat. she wanted me to be happy. something, she whispered with my dad in the other room, something she never was. something she would never be.

i am a first generation italian-american who grew up in southern new jersey. Life is amazingly beautiful and devastating. Sometimes in the same day.

i am a first generation italian-american who grew up in southern new jersey. Life is amazingly beautiful and devastating. Sometimes in the same day.