Oh well this is fucking late. Gonna post it anyway.

Back in high school I was cutting weight for wrestling. I couldn't eat a damn thing for over 24 hours, until after my Saturday weigh in.

The night before, my mom made some kick ass chicken parmesan that I couldn't eat. It's ok, because I could just heat up the leftovers. At around 9pm I ate sleep for dinner.

So I went through Friday hungry, went to sleep, woke up Saturday morning, cut weight for 2 hours, weighed in, practiced for 2 hours (all on an empty stomach), and finally went home to eat my leftovers. I've been thinking about them nonstop.

I pulled into my driveway and ran inside of the house with whatever energy I had left. I felt like a damn ghost. I open up the fridge to pull out the tupperware filled with chicken cutlet parmesan... It's not in the usual leftover spot.

I checked all around the fridge for it, pulled almost every container out onto my floor as I searched every inch of the damn thing.

It was gone.

With all of the food on my kitchen counter/floor and the fridge wide open, I dropped to my knees and sobbed. My dad had just eaten it for lunch.

We don't talk anymore.