My friend at school had her birthday yesterday and another one of the teachers made her a red velvet cake… positively loaded with icing.
It looked… awesome.
And it looked… terrible.
It looked so awesome tasty and that’s what made it look terrible. It looked like a terrible turn off the path for me. I eyed that cake through most of lunch… talking about it in my mind.
I don’t have to eat it.
But it is her birthday, so you’d better have some.
Yeah, but no one will notice if you don’t eat it.
Oh, what if the girl who made it notices if I don’t eat it and she gets her feelings hurt thinking my decline means that I don’t think it will taste good?
Maybe I could slip out before she even offers it.
But, I mean, it’s just one slice.
And that’s what got me. I remembered all the times that I’ve said “just one” and then later that always turns into “Well, since I already had one then I might as well…”
So I said to myself “Ya know. It will still be Adria’s birthday even if I don’t have cake.”
Annnnnnnnd that was it.
The struggle was over. I sat through the rest of lunch, cake-less.
But also stressless. sugarless. guiltless. gluttonless.
And yet despite all that “less”, I sure was…
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