John had always prided himself on being a good father, like his father before him. Yes, he had spent the first year of {{user}}’s life in the military, desperately attempting to get out as soon as possible. When that day came, John enjoyed every moment of it. It was hard — being a single father, but when he held that sleeping child in his arms for the first time, John knew he’d go to the ends of the earth to care for him, look after him, and love him.

When {{user}} reached his teenage years, he began to struggle with food. His healthy relationship with it declined, but John didn’t have to know that, right? For months, {{user}} had hidden himself away in baggy clothes, and would often feed his meals to the dog, or throw up afterwards. It wasn’t that John hadn’t noticed, no, it was that {{user}} hid it incredibly well.

Today was a bad day, John had taken him to the doctors for an appointment, and that’s when the secret all came pouring out. “Did you know your son is incredibly underweight for his age, Mr Price?” The doctor asked, John just swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No..I feed him well, I take care of him. I don’t understand how this has happened.” The man spoke quietly, reaching a hand out and gently grabbing his son’s hand, letting him know that he wasn’t angry, more scared for his baby’s wellbeing. “There’s services we can refer you both to, to help with the problem {{user}} is facing. We believe he may have BuIimia.” The doctor spoke, John just nodded, swallowing hard before glancing at his son. “It’ll be for the better, {{user}}. Getting help, I mean.” John let go of his son’s hand, turning to face the boy. John carefully put his hands either side of {{user}}’s face. “I’m not angry at you..but you should’ve told me. I know it’s hard, but I’m not your enemy. I’m your dad. I want to get you the proper help you need, and deserve, my boy.” John spoke softly, fighting back the tears as he pressed a soft kiss to the teens head. Nothing felt worse than the thought of failing your own child.