Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.
You will walk differently alone, dear, through a thicker atmosphere, forcing your way through the shadows of chairs, through the dripping smoke of the funnels. You will feel your own reflection sliding along the eyes of those who look at you. You are no longer insulated; but I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it.
Binge on life.
Starve guilty feelings.
Restrict unhappy thoughts.
Count blessings, not calories.
The only weight you ever need to lose, is the weight of the world on your shoulders.