Originally written: August 2010 as a Facebook Message
ii was going to say hi to you today on facebook, then i realized that you had deleted me. i wonder what i did to warrant that?
i never asked you for a relationship, and i never acted like i was this psycho wanting your attention all the time. i never acted like i wanted to be more than what the situation was… which from all of your actions, told me you didnt want a relationship (with me, anyway). i knew you were talking or seeing other girls, which is totally fine.. people date around, i date around… it’s normal. but even after what happened, i still thought that we could be chill or friends. u never told me how u felt, whether you liked me or not, whether u wanted to be friends or not. everything you said to me, i took at face value - and assumed things were fine between us.
i saw that you tried to talk to me on AIM last sunday, and the reason why i didnt respond was because i wasnt in front of my computer. maybe u felt like u wanted to tell me something, or tell me that u werent interested in or wanted to see me nemore. i would have been fine with that. your actions confused me. some days i thought you were interested, then there were days i felt like you werent. and that night when you told me you thought i wasnt into you, i was surprised… because i was very much into you… i was thinking maybe you thought i wasnt into you again.. and that wasnt true… i like you a lot… you’re ambitious, and driven… incredibly smart and opinionated… you were funny, made me laugh… you were charming, and you had a swagger that was sexy and turned me on… and the stories you told me about studying abroad and your many escapades with your friends in med school - it was interesting and fascinated me…
and then afterwards, when i tried to talk to you, you acted like you wanted space, so i gave you space. then you started avoiding me and not talking to me, which was fine… it just told me u didnt want to have anything to do with me… so i came to terms with just leaving u alone.
did it hurt? yeah it did… because u made me feel like i was 17 and confused again… and i cared more about this bs than i ever have with anyone in a long time… id see u online on facebook every single day, and it hurt to know that u never wanted to talk to me… not even as a friend… i felt almost worthless in a sense… i was really sad and confused, and tried hard not to show it to you b/c i knew it would just make u feel uncomfortable and distant yourself further from me…
i barely talked to you the past week, and then you deleted me from facebook… so i really dont know what i did, but whatever it was… im sorry.
p.s. btw, the bit about my bra was not a ploy for me to go back to your apartment. it was an italian la perla bra… that comes in a 2 piece set and is almost 300 euros… and yes, i would like it back. if you had told me you were uncomfortable with seeing me again, i would have just sent a bike courier to pick it up.
Being a fat girl in New York sucks. For one, maximizing the opportunity to shop all the designer and couture sales seasons comes short since everything is basically a sample size. Even if I could afford it, I couldn’t fit an arm in a couture Alexander McQueen gown, unfortunately. Which leaves me to just shoes. Still, there are better options for trendy fashion in NYC than anywhere else - which is a tremendous plus.
Then there’s the dating pool, which is whittled down to select options. Seriously, you know you’re fat when homeless or ghetto people on the subway platform are the only men that holler at you. Although, my best friend would argue that I should’ve realized I was fat when the scale tipped over 165 at my height. Bastard LOL
I’ve come to terms with myself that I will never be 100 lbs. again in my life, ever. I am working on a better self though. Yoga for meditation, spinning to free my mind.
My advice to other fat girls in New York City: Don’t be too discouraged. There’s hope. If I can find and date great (and not so great) guys, you can too. Instead of focusing on what size you are, just work on being healthy - which will boost your confidence - and confidence in a woman is beautiful and what really attracts men (at least the type of men you WANT to attract). However, when your ass can’t walk down an aisle or fit through a doorway without turning sideways - it IS time to reevaluate. It’s now a matter of health, not looks. Forget tipping the scale or dating or whatever - be concerned with your health. Your risk for heart disease, diabetes, and other health problems multiply when you are overweight. Get support from your friends, or if you need someone to be a gym buddy - leave a reply, and I’ll help you out.
Your health matters most. You can’t date anyone when you’re dead.
Everything I seem to do reminds me of you. No matter how hard I try to look away, you’re there staring back in my face. I feel so miserable I just want to pull the hair out of my head. I try to do everything to get you out of mind; whether it be through endless shopping on CREDIT, going out to parties, or even getting a new boyfriend. Nothing seems to work. You’re so good at this. How do you do it? Can you tell me your secret? I want to know how you forgot me so fast. I want to forget you too. I want to forget you so badly. And everytime I think I am, everytime I think I’m better, I think of you. I think of all the things about you that made me giggle. Sometimes I long for those days to return. I feel pathetic and retarded for falling for a man I don’t even know. I ask God everyday why I feel this way? I sometimes question myself if I brought this all onto myself. Whether you were a gift to me, and I simply threw you away because of my own careless stupidity.
I walked into the liquor store for the fifth time this past week. I’ve been an alcohol junkie for the past 2 months. It’s to the point where if I’m feeling shitty enough, I take it straight from the bottle. I want to die, yet I don’t because I know that’s just stupid. The numbness that conquers my emotions at night fades away in the morning and kills me in the afternoon; when the clock hits 9, my cycle begins. While I was staring at the selections of Vodka up on the shelf, I heard that damn song by Jack Johnson. I found myself humming along by the song’s end while I managed to feel a few tears down my face. Then some man yelled to his son, who coincidentally bore the same name as you, to quit playing with the beer bottles. I thought why, of all people, would God be pulling a stunt like this on me. It hasn’t just happened once or twice, but many many times. For instance, I was over at my aunt’s house for dinner last night, and I met a little 9 year old girl named Samantha (nicknamed Sammy) that was my aunt’s friend’s daughter. She was a bit chubby too. Everywhere I go, I see remnants of YOU. At the golf course, at the shopping mall, at home, just… everywhere. I then began to stare wide-eyed at the Jack and Grey Goose on the shelves, and grabbed one of each flavor. I’ve learned how to mix my own drinks. Aren’t you proud of me? I’m turning into… into you.
You’re right though. Why must you wait on me? I’m not real. I’m nothing anyways…