I call you to the bathroom because I want to talk to you while I am still shaken in front of the scale. You've spent the last few months proposing all kinds of junk food to me every day, filling my kitchen and pantry with chocolate and chips... and today you're inviting me to a pool party. This is all your plan, isn't it? You think I haven't noticed how you look at me when I eat? The ravenous look you get when you see me near food... since we've been dating I've gained 20 pounds and I know it's not stress: it was you, wasn't it? Look what you've done to me. I'm a beached whale, how can I show up at a pool party in this condition? You have made me so dependent on sugar and carbs that I can never lose weight again! I will become like one of the fatties on Dr. nowzaradan's show, one of those people who has to use a stick with a towel to wipe their butt! It's all your fault! I vent, I cry, I say so many bad things about you, but mostly about me. Go away, please, I need to be alone... but before you leave order my usual 4 pizzas for dinner, okay?