Le Fardeau.

I hate it when Eric gets into my business about eating. We were eating lunch together today, and I was doing really well. I was perfectly content with my veggie burger patty and my pretty little salad. That is, until a girl sat down near us with a veggie burger and curly fries, my arch nemesis. That's when the shit hit the fan, and it only took one sentence: God, those fries look good. Then Eric looked up at me and said, "Then get some." I insisted that I was okay, I was too lazy to get up, and finally, I accidentally said that my fat ass doesn't need them. Eric gave me one of those oh-god-dont-be-getting-into-this-shit-again-now-youve-given-me-right-to-be-suspicious looks. That's when he got up and got them for me, put them down in front of me and waited for me to eat. And naturally, as soon as I started I couldn't stop.
In a way, I feel like a terrible person for being angry, because I know that I really do worry him with my eating, and with his dad being so sick now, I don't want him to have to have another thing to worry about. I feel like I'm such a burden sometimes, to my family and my friends. I hate doing this to them, and I wish I didn't worry them and hurt them with this, but I can't stop. I won't stop.