The Break Up

Dear Lorenzo,

The only junk food that is still in our house are the pop rocks that Amira nagged me into buying for her from Lickety Split, and the jalapeno flavored, Kettle brand potato chips that Amira likes but I cannot stand.

Everything else has been thrown away at long last.

It's time to say goodbye to my 2nd favorite drug of choice: food.

Anyone who doesn't understand the emotional comfort that food can provide is either lying or has never eaten before.

For the past 22 months, food has filled the void that's taken up permanent residence in my heart and soul since you've been gone.

Too sad to get off the couch? Let's order a pizza. Scared shitless by the prospect of single motherhood? How bout some crackers and cheese? Lonely as hell without you lying next to me each night? Let's stay up late and eat potato chips while watching mindless sitcoms until the Tylenol PM kicks in and I drift off into never never land  having never never confronted any of my actual feelings because...my actual feelings HURT.

Being without you HURTS. Going over every mistake I've ever made in the course of our almost decade long relationship HURTS. Knowing that we don't get another shot to make it right HURTS. And so instead of allowing myself to feel that hurt...I ate. And ate. And ate. And ate. And ate.

And then I ate some more.

But 22 months later, I'm finally ready to be done with that particular coping mechanism because...spoiler alert: it doesn't work. Underneath all those potato chips are just a whole bunch of emotions that I'm still going to have to deal with eventually.

And I finally feel ready to start deaing with them now.