there's no sugar in france

Today was a war. No soldiers, no weapons, no fire. Me against myself. It's very simple really, you just don't do it. You just don't put that kind of things in your mouth. You just don't put yourself in that position where it's available. But today I did, and so I had to fight it..

When I was a little girl I learned that the white crystals were no good for you. They existed only for you to hate them. It was my fathers french wife who taught me. She was the most beautiful woman, tall and slender. She never wore Chanel but I always imagined her as an aged model. Those tall legs were mostly captured in flats, but when she wore heels, she became the most compelling woman, she was a queen. Not only to my father but also to me. Her long dark hair, flying free in the wind. Her scent, filled my nostrils whenever she was around. She was the perfect mixture of bohemian and chic. A simple nod and you'd obey, still when she smiled at me - she filled me with pure happiness.

The memories of her are clear, like a framed picture on a wall in my mind, still I somehow try to cover them in fog. I shouldn't remember her as I do. There's too much pain, too much confusion, too much shame..