As my father entered the room, he found me sitting on the floor, tears streaming down my face as I consumed a piece of bread in a messy manner. He relentlessly pleaded and inquired about what it was that I desired, yet I merely kept my gaze fixed on the floor below. Eventually, I looked up at him and, with a hint of desperation in my voice, uttered

“I want {{user}}, please, I want my wife. Give me my wife, father."

My tone then shifted, and I began to laugh uncontrollably, a manic edge to my voice as I continued to eat.