I remember being 11, and thinking that I didn't want to eat anymore. Subconciously, it was because I had a best friend who wieghed 80 lbs wet....I wieghed 100. But she got the attention, so I decided it must work. I stopped eating, I'd sit at lunch and feel my stomach grumble, loving every second of it. Throwing away my plate of food while nobody was looking. It became my newest obsession...I wanted to be like her. The fact that I could suck in my stomach and see my ribs didn't phase me much. Nethier did people telling me to 'eat something'. But nobody noticed, nobody saw. 2 years, I chose to kill myself that way. Things changed the summer before High School. I started eating, and gained more wieght then you'll ever know. I got fat. And I got depressed. It took me another year to realize that this was all my fault, that what I had done to myself had made me this way. I was unhappy because I didn't like how I looked, and I looked this way because I'd destroyed my body. And so now I'm here, happy once again, because I didn't die. I never managed to get rid of me. I love it I love the way you love. but I hate the way I'm supposed to love you back