Sunday, May 22, 2011

I Know You Aren't Trying to Break My Heart

"Need to eat your fat c*nt ;)"

He wrote me.

And I felt the tears well up.  You see, I like this man a tremendous amount.  He's funny, he's smart, he has a wicked wit and a rapier tongue.  He had sex with me last week in a way I had honestly never experienced.  It felt honest, it felt right, it felt tangible in a way I don't recall sex feeling before.

So I let him stay the night.

Now, I know I am not a small girl.  Gone are the halcyon beauty queen days when my jeans were a size six and I felt like I could conquer any penis bearing person on planet Earth.  I know intellectually that, while I am 43 lbs lighter than I was when we first greeted 2011, I am not there yet...and it will be some time before my weight starts with a one and my dresses have a size with only one digit.

And heaven knows I know I put myself here.   I ate those fries, I neglected to run those miles.

A friend suggests to me that I get involved with things "BBW."

I lock myself in a bathroom stall and cry.  I don't want to be a "Big Beautiful Woman."  I want to be a "beautiful woman" without a qualifying adjective. 

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