Today, I drank milk for the first time, in what is probably years.
Growing up, I'd come home from swim lessons during the summer and drink half gallons in one sitting – I loved it so much. Now, I live with the sorry excuse of almond milk, which I don't even like. This afternoon, I poured myself half a teacup. I'm not sure why I felt so daring. After I drank a couple mouthfuls, I poured the rest down the drain. I didn't know whether I should kill myself or pat myself on the back. I walked to and fro from the kitchen to the bathroom about ten times, holding my head in my hand and pondering whether or not I should purge for the fourth time today or try and keep it down.
Well, I kept it down and I didn't end up killing myself over it. I guess I will try and pat myself on the back instead.