A Love/Hate Relationship

I place my life into your greasy, yet seasoned hands as I give into your temptation and indulge you. I get wrapped up in dozens of emotions all at once, from happiness to guilt. How could something so good be so bad for me? I'm addicted to the taste and your indescribable aroma. What is wrong with me? You are just food, not even a main dish. I just have to have you. You are the friend that will never really be a friend because you are just a French fry. Your sole purpose is to fill me with all of your golden brown goodness on a nightly basis. You are served with mostly everything and can be found anywhere I go. My safe food is my nickname for you. I can't avoid you. I can never bring myself to do so.

Finally I realized how bad you are for me. You know that many members of my family have an issue with high blood pressure, and yet you still present yourself in the way that you do. I tried to quit you to change my eating habits and adapt to a healthier lifestyle; but I relapsed time and time again. My mind is ready to give you up completely but you still have a hold on my stomach. She argues with me constantly. It's like that hot dog commercial that relays the message "hunger gets what hunger wants" was made specifically for me. If I don't pay attention, she lets out a deep throaty growl and cause pain at the most unpleasant times. As days progress it's getting worse. My mind is beginning to not care anymore. All of the restrictions and the portion amounts are all thrown out the window. In the end, I'm always the victim.

Do you see this evil that you inflict on my body? My body mass is slowly growing. You refuse to let me exercise. I'm losing all motivation to get healthier because I'm getting lazier. You wait in my freezer plotting your next move in my destruction. I hear you and it draws me closer. I take my anger out on you when I throw you in the flames and watch you fry. Unfortunately my hate for you never lasts long. I apologize for what I say and become a glutton for you all over again. If I lose you it would be the end of the world for me. I won't have anything to eat. I'll starve without you.

I watch all programs involving your kind. They did a special on Unwrapped and How It's Made in dedication to you. The only time my eyes left the screen was during the commercials. I've followed your life's story repeatedly since I was little. You began life as a seed, turned into a spud on someone's harvesting farm thousands of miles away from me where you grew into a potato. Millions of your brothers and sisters surround you. I don't have enough time in the world to meet them all. You went through the ice age, categorized, packaged, shipped off, and placed under extreme heat. Now you are here scattered all over my plate. You always know the right way to brighten and ruin my day. I just want to say thanks for nothing but I'm happy you're in my life. I hardly talk to you as it is. When we meet in my kitchen or in various restaurants, no words are exchanged. There is no reason for them.

What we have is personal. Girl meets French fry, everything in her life spins out of control, and he leaves her full with guilt. That is our relationship. All of the good events that occurred in my life had something to do with you. At every birthday, every night out, every family outing, and just about everything else, I counted on you being there. You share yourself with the world but become selfish when it comes to me. The joy of eating other food is quickly diminished because you are afraid of begin replaced. It was your plan all along.

The jealousy and hunger surface when I see you in the hands of someone else. I get angry when I don't have enough money to buy you. Your infidelity is inevitable. If I can't have you, I'm sure millions of others will. I don't want to accept that. The domestic drama begins without second thought. I resent you until you're on a crash course into my stomach again. This feeling is bittersweet. I know what we have will be the death of me because I don't want to eat in moderation. I was too proud to see all the wrong your doing. I can't shake this feeling because you're too irresistible. Something about you keeps me coming back for more. Unfortunately, I do not have the will power to stop my justifiable consumption of you. All of the problems I have with you come to the forefront. This is a display of an addiction which is increasing with every thought and word. My hysterical, delusional, and hunger influenced thoughts are consumed by you as I write this tale about a love that can not continue. What will become of me? I have no way of getting help. There is no such thing as a French Fry-oholics Anonymous (FFA). I just need help taking that first step in the right direction and I know I'll be better off. I'll figure it out somehow one day