To The Girl In The Restaurant Last Night.

I was having dinner with my husband last night when you and your friends came in and sat at the table beside us. I didn’t really pay much attention to you three girls, other than one of them (that would be you) reminded me of my own daughter, now away at school. I smiled at you wistfully, then went back to my own meal and conversation with my mate.
A few minutes later, the waitress came to take your order. For some reason, I happened to hear yours. I won’t say what it was as lord knows, we don’t need anymore triggers, but it was a triple portion. Even the waitress made a comment along the lines of how hungry you must be. That’s when your “friend” chimed in, “Oh don’t worry, she’s just going to throw it up anyway.”
I wish I’d said something.
I wish, when you got up from the table a few minutes after your meal, that I would have gone, too and tried to talk to you.
This is what I wish I would have said. “You don’t have to do this. You can be free from this. But you can’t do this alone.
You could die doing this. I almost did. I had a stroke. I lost a baby. Now I keep a picture of the people I love the most nearby so when I have the urge to give in, I have to look at their picture before I do.
You need help. Your friends can’t help you – you need somebody with a little more living under their belt.
Don’t do this one more day.”