Six months ago, I was having a "girl day," when I looked in the mirror and realized how ridiculous I looked. So I purged. Again. But this time, I was really done. I haven't shaved my legs, my chest, or my pits since. I haven't so much as put on lip gloss. Didn't look back, and didn't even feel the pull of it anymore.
But today, I have a couple doctors appts. So I decided to take the whole day and maybe do something productive, like get some writing. Except I'm not writing. I laying on the bed, staring at my wife's makeup and dirty clothes -- some panties, a skirt, some slacks, a few really nice tops, and assorted camis and tees -- and I want so badly to be Leyna again.
But I can't. And I won't. I'm done.
Maybe I'll just buy some rocky road, eat the whole tub, and have a good cry.