Why do I keep eating pizza even though it makes me sick? Why do I continue to order it knowing that it will lead to chaos? Why do I even reach for the next slice once stomach pains have started to rise? I do it because I'm a fool, a borderline food addict and a girl with no self-control.
I love pizza. My adoration for pizza really isn't much of a statement because a lot of the world feels the same way; however, I can't help but notice that my love is unwavering. Whether it's good or bad pizza, I want in. This really doesn't make sense because I don't treat every menu item with the same undeniable love. If the shrimp cocktail is no good, I won't have any problems turning to another item, but I struggle to wonder from pizza.
Browsing the aisles in the freezer section, I find myself grabbing whatever pizza is on sale. Although I often compromise on quality, I'm just as happy to know that any kind of pizza is an option. Pizza is even a flavor that I often search for or look to find in other shapes and sizes. Pizza Rolls, Bagel Bites and pizza-flavored Pringles are all items that frequent my food routine.
But why pizza? Why do I keep coming back, even when I know that I will face consequences? Acid reflux, nausea, and vomiting are just a few of the many things that can follow after an affair with pizza, but I always go in head first anyway. Am I thinking with my heart, head or tongue? I'm certainly not thinking with my stomach because it has been scorned many times by the nonsense that follows a round of pizza.
Honestly, I'm not even looking for answers. I just sometimes find myself wondering, but not wondering enough to pursue the truth. The truth might be that I shouldn't entangle myself with pizza, and I don't know if I'll ever be ready to hear it.