I feel it is my duty as the author of this story to offer an explanation for the lack of updates to you readers.

It's been an extremely difficult year for me. I've lost many friends whom I considered family, was admitted to a psychiatric hospital, dropped out of college, had numerous nervous breakdowns and other physical health scares, and barricaded myself within my home for nine months. I've lost all inspiration for writing as well as art, and have no clue as to when it'll happen to come back.

It agonizes me to think this story will be left on such a shaky note; the last chapter could indeed be considered an ending, but there's so much more I wanted to say and share. Bulimia isn't a laughing matter – it's a grueling, awful experience for both parties that are victim to the disorder, and there are no quick fixes. There is always catalyst that ignites a small, passing thought into a violent eruption, leading to the desperate measures of purging. If it's not found and addressed, there is no cure.

Again, I'm truly sorry to those of you who were following this. I never intended the turn of events to whisk me away from this fic, but it simply cannot be helped.