Deadly Weight Loss

Tina went all in, chasing love like her life depended on it.

Days rolled by, and I watched her face sink in, looking like a walking skeleton.

Her collarbones jutted out so much, they looked ready to poke through her skin.

Watching her, I figured it wouldn't be long before her body just gave out.

But she didn't have a clue, totally wrapped up in her "diet victory."

Sure enough, one morning, Tina dragged me to the gym for an early run, without even grabbing breakfast.

After our run, while we were waiting for the subway, I noticed her sway.

I turned to look at her, eyes half-closed, cold sweat soaking through her gym clothes.

I'd seen this scene play out before.

Like clockwork, I reached out to steady her. "Tina, you alright? Feeling lightheaded?"

Tina weakly nodded, too out of it to even talk.

"How about a cookie? Or maybe some Coke?"

Her body, desperate for food, had her practically drooling, and I saw her throat move as she swallowed.

She looked longingly at the snacks in my hand.

I picked up on her cue and played along: "The cookie's 3,000 calories, and the Coke's 4,000."

Hearing that, Tina shook her head like she'd lost hope, closed her eyes, and passed out cold.

The subway staff asked if I needed help, but I waved them off.

No way was I letting anyone get chewed out by my bestie.

About ten minutes later, Tina came to, smiling weakly. "Low blood sugar? No biggie, just needed a quick nap. Glad I stuck to my guns and didn't eat."

Poor thing, you didn't nap—you blacked out.

But of course, I wasn't about to tell her that.