I don't even know why I was crying. All I remember was sitting at that dinner table, having a good time. I remember silently chuckling from some joke my father made; the same joke he cracked about once a week. I remember when our food came out, and my plate being placed in front of me. With every piece of beef I threw into my mouth, my teeth gnawed down on the meat. I remember feeling like my taste buds were synchronizing with my food; like my taste buds were jump roping with each piece of meat in perfect harmony. And I wasn't keeping count of how long it took, or how many bites I had taken, but it all came to me at once. I stood up from my seat and ran straight to the bathroom. I remember thinking that my parents thought I had gotten sick or really needed to take a piss. I kept my head down the whole walk to the bathroom. I remember locking the door and looking in the mirror. My face had gotten red. And I don't mean tomato red. I mean red like the tongues I used to color in when I was a kid, because I thought my tongue resembled the color of blood and balloons. I fell to the floor and heard the tears hitting every tile on the floor like they were playing a game of hopscotch. I remember feeling tears rolling down my cheeks and tasting salty water, but I don't remember feeling any certain way. I just remember thinking that I was really in the mood for some Mexican food and wondering why I had chosen Korean barbecue. I thought that maybe pointless questions would take away the numbness I was feeling (which writing it now, seems pretty ironic).
When we had gotten home, my parents asked me why I had been crying. I'm not really sure how they knew, but I figured they wondered what was taking me so long, and observed me as I took tiny, slow bites of the cake that had arrived after I came back to the table. I assumed that they had thought that I had trouble with a friend or maybe that my boyfriend had broken up with me. Honestly, I wish I had a reason why I was crying; a breakup or fight or even a fucking death. I wondered how many years I wasted with my desire to live, before I finally realized that I had been created to die.