Why do we always find ourselves drawn to the things we should not touch – to the things we should not have? Why do we repeatedly and defiantly make choices that cause us nothing but regret?
In my case, I think it’s a slow suicide. A way to wallow in my misery and take a few minutes, hours, days off my life at a time. It’s safer this way; reversible. I am a coward.
But I’m not afraid to take small steps, to endanger my life one calorie at a time. I get a little closer and closer to the sun until my wings melt and I fall. Then, in a flurry of regret, I rebuild them with vigor and positive self-talk – controlling my hunger and choosing the path farthest from the sun’s scorching rays.
But I get cold, and I get closer… and closer… until I fall again. One of these days, the fall is going to be fatal.
I am Icarus. I will touch the sun.