Indulgence, Part I

Jennifer can’t make up her mind. Her brows furrowed in irresolution, every nerve in her body concentrated on the decision before her. Her mind was completely focused.

Mango ice-cream or fudge brownies?

At the moment, her choice of dinner was about the biggest decision Jennifer could handle. Having just been dumped by her boyfriend of 3 years, his final words still rankled, chafing at the raw wound of her heart…

“We’re over, Jen. I can’t do this anymore. How can I love you if you don’t even love yourself…”

…Right. All Jen heard was “I can’t date you because you’re fat.” And a bunch of other baloney.

But the pain was just too real. Forcing all negative thoughts about her self-image into the crevices of her mind, she grabbed the nearest of the two choices (mango ice-cream. Excellent.) and a Jumbo bag of Sour Cream and Onion chips off the counter and hurried to the living room. She selected the coziest armchair and sank in.

Through the fog of hurt that clouded her mind, Jennifer was vaguely aware that she should start on the ice-cream first, before it melted. Melted ice-cream, not good. As though in a trance, she broke the seal to the ice-cream tub. Spooning out a generous lump, she shoveled it down her throat.

She closed her eyes in a moment of brief, unadulterated pleasure as the ice-cream slid down her throat. For that fleeting moment, Jennifer managed to convince herself that this was real, and all her pain dissolved. Yet that moment flitted by, as brief and transient as a butterfly wing brushing her cheek, and the pain began to return…..

More ice-cream, she diagnosed promptly. Quickly, she swallowed another heaping spoonful of ice-cream.

Jennifer was an emotional wreck. Two states away from her family (not that they made great emotional pillars anyway, but they still meant well. Hypothetically) and stuck in a grueling job that cost her 60 hours of her life weekly and left her an empty vessel of dissatisfaction, her newly-acquired status as “single” was the straw that broke the camel’s already straining back.

She was headed for a downward spiral, she could feel it. Another trip to her costly psychiatrist, which obviously equaled her forking out more cash. This, effectively, would cost her more hours of her life in her jailhouse of an office.

Screwing her eyes shut, Jennifer chanted mentally, “I love my life…I love my life…”

Author's note: Yep, this was modelled after the compo we helped yiYi do. I really liked developing the character, so I thought I'd try it myself! if you like it, tell me and I'll finish it. You know how i need motivation. If you don't, then I'll just add it to my elongated list of unfinished stories. Cheers.