Nothing beats the feeling of being home. As soon as John and I stepped inside the familiar walls of my house, I felt relieved. I threw myself on the couch, leaving my stuff on the floor. I turned over and buried my face into a pillow, raising my head for a minute to breathe. “I am so tiiiiired.” I exclaimed. John came over, with two cans of beer in his hands. He stood over me, eyeing me from head to toe. “What?” I asked, annoyed. “Sit up, fatty. Don’t hog all the space.” He said with a devious grin. “Ouch.” I pretended to be offended. “You don’t have to be so mean.” I added, placing my hand on my chest as if his comment pierced me. I rolled my eyes and sat up. He laughed, more relaxed now. I giggled as he sat down inches away from me, my elbow brushing against his. He handed me a can of beer, and we drank together in silence. After a sip he leaned back on the couch and stretched out his free arm (yes his arm nearest me). I was watching him from my peripheral view, if I leaned back as well, it‘ll be like his arms are around me. Should I or should I not, I thought to myself. I was quiet, still waiting for him to speak. I took another sip. Why does this guy make me nervous everytime I‘m with him?
Maybe he was watching me too? I tried to shake away my thoughts with another sip of beer. Then finally, he spoke.
“Who brought you home tonight? he asked.
“A friend. Nina introduced him to me.” I replied.
“HIM? Wow. You like this guy?”
“Why, does it matter to you?”
He paused for a second before speaking.
I didn’t have anything to say. Not really? That hurt. I wanted to matter to him, but I guess that would never happen. He was clicking on the remote now, searching for something good to watch on the tv. He stopped on this channel that sold stuff that promised to make you look thinner. There was a woman wearing this thermal girdle or something. He was watching intently, and then he suddenly spoke, “Maybe you should buy that, Meems, to help you lose weight.” He was looking at me now, but my eyes were still glued on the screen. I wasn’t looking but I could feel his gaze, burning my skin. “You’re pretty, but you’d be prettier if you were thin.” he said. “Gee thanks, John. I appreciate your concern.” I made no attempt to hide the sarcasm in my voice. I’m pretty happy with how I looked. I may have flabby arms, extra weight, and huge thighs, but I’ve learned to accept my flaws. This guy is such a turn-off. I mean, he thinks he’s gorgeous and I’m not good enough for him because I’m fat? He broke my silent rant by saying, “If you were thin, I’d probably court you.” As if that would make everything better. I wanted to punch him in the face, but instead I gave him my best smile and said, “Well then I guess we’re not meant for each other.” I was pissed, but I knew I had to keep my cool. I’ve gotten comments like those so many times and I’m so used to them, but hearing it from someone I really liked felt like being shot in the heart. Talk about a rude awakening.
John finally finished his last can of beer. I told him it was getting late so he should go. I didn’t say much after what he said. When he left, I sat down on the couch and just stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. I felt numb. I could feel his words sinking in. How can such a happy day turn into one of the crappiest in just a flash? Words are truly powerful. No matter how hard we try to put up strong walls, hurtful words can still seep through the tiniest of cracks.
Everything was moving at a sluggish pace now. I went up to my room and stood in front of my full-length mirror. Slowly, I took off my shirt and my pants, and I stood there almost naked. I stared at my belly, folds of fat, my dimply thighs, my round face, my extra chin, my saggy breasts, and that pooch beneath my belly button. I hated it. Deep inside I knew I was beautiful despite what I saw reflected in front of me, but tonight, in that moment, I hated myself for being me.
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