Alas, the meal is done. I’ve reached my limit and it is time to stop eating.<\/p>\n
Pity it is. A sad moment that I dreaded would come with each bite, but I ignored the inevitable in favor of flavor.<\/p>\n
Now it is time. There’s no avoiding it. I must face the end. The meal is done. Yet, I have no will power, no strength to take action. I want seconds, or more. Much more.<\/p>\n
The meal was so good, as it always is. The food so delicious, so soothing and satisfying it’s a shame it is all over. It meant so much: the act of love that made it, the time, the care of the chef, now all consumed way too soon.<\/p>\n
Yet over it is. Time now to stop eating and grieve the end.<\/p>\n
Oh dear meal I have loved thee well. You gave me comfort and nourishment, but now I believe to my depths that you are gone from my life. Like a fleeting romance, a ship at night that sailed into the horizon, you’ve deserted me for distant shores. What will I do? What WILL I DO? God only knows, and time will surely tell.<\/p>\n
I still want but I cannot cry because the food is still with me. I feel full; the food has not really deserted me. The meal has become me, truth be told.<\/p>\n
I think I have no power to stop, yet I have stopped three times a day for decades upon decades. How was this possible in the state I’m always in, in the end, grieving the cessation of consumption? I’m again a hopeless mess with an empty plate. “Ending just is,” I tell myself; “I am simply on to other things.” “Run fool! Leave while the getting is good!”<\/p>\n
Like any good religious ritual, like a fine funeral helps lift the soul to God in remembrance, I praise the occasion gone by. I thank God for the past moment of culinary love and ask to be given the strength to let it go, and just go. <\/p>\n
So I do go… yet I secretly know…<\/p>\n
The next meal is not far, and I shall slowly savor it as I know it too will end. Until that hour arrives I am safe, sound and satisfied. God knows I will be satisfied, truth be told.<\/p>\n
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Alas, the meal is done. I’ve reached my limit and it is time to stop eating. Pity it is. A sad moment that I dreaded would come with each bite, but I ignored the inevitable in favor of flavor. Now it is time. There’s no avoiding it. I must face the end. The meal is…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":171,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,9,3,4,10,14,5,13,12,8,11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-114","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-diet","category-happiness","category-health","category-joy","category-lifestyles","category-love","category-prayers","category-relationships","category-spirituality","category-weight-loss","category-wellness"],"yoast_head":"\n