strawberry cheesecake

You always know when I've reached that point.

That point where I should probably stop.

The point where every movement feels heavier, slower, softer.

But you never say anything.

You just watch.

I lean back in my chair and let out a long sigh.

The kind that happens when you've gone far beyond comfortable and entered something else entirely.

A strange mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

I can feel the fullness everywhere.

In my stomach.

In my breathing.

In the way I shift my weight and immediately become aware of my own body.

The room feels quieter now.

The excitement is gone.

The challenge is over.

All that's left is the aftermath.

I rest my hand on my stomach absentmindedly.

Still warm.

Still heavy.

Still carrying the memory of every bite.

You ask me if it was worth it.

I laugh.

Because it's such a ridiculous question.

Of course it was.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I knew what the outcome would be.

I knew I'd end up here, too full to move quickly, too comfortable to want to get up, staring down at myself and wondering how I managed to do it again.

And yet...

If you asked me whether I'd do it all over tomorrow?

I'd probably smile.

Look away.

And say something irresponsible.

Because deep down, both of us already know the answer.

The same answer that got me here in the first place.

"Just a little more."

New car that I’m a bit too big for 🤭

my most prized vid yet omg

Happy tummy Tuesday! My patron is on sale!

I don't think I've ever been this aware of my own body before.

Every breath feels different.

Every movement reminds me of that lingering fullness that's still sitting heavily inside me.

I look down and can't help but notice it.

The way my stomach rests.

The way it presses softly against me.

The way it feels impossibly present, impossible to ignore.

Hours have passed, and yet I still feel full.

Not just physically.

Mentally, too.

Like my body is still processing everything, still carrying the memory of every bite.

When I sit down, I feel it.

When I stand up, I feel it.

Even when I'm completely still, I feel it.

A constant, warm heaviness.

The kind that makes me want to sink into a chair, put my feet up, and stay there for a while.

I run my hand across my stomach absentmindedly and laugh.

Because part of me is amazed.

Amazed at how different I feel.

How much space I seem to occupy.

How impossible it is to pretend I'm not aware of it.

And maybe that's why I keep glancing down.

Because every time I do, I'm reminded that this feeling is real.

Not a thought.

Not an idea.

This is a men's XL shirt btw

Before:

After: