Eyes on my plate, on food that I hate. I don't want to eat. I was ready to push the food away, to leave it untouched, but then I saw you. You sat next to me like you always do, talking and laughing casually. For you, it was nothing more than a day, but for me, everything felt different. I said nothing, so you wouldn't worry, so lunch wouldn't turn awkward, so I wouldn't have to hear the phrases which make me lose my balance and make my eyes speak before me. I'm scared that you will ask, "What's going on? Are you okay?" What should I answer? Should I say I'm just tired, or should I say I feel like a burden to everyone? Should I? No. So I kept stuffing myself with food that my body was refusing, just to feel normal for a while.