I dated a guy once who lived in another state. Basically across the country, but, we tried it. I went there. He came here. Whatever, it was five years ago. I was 18.
I got a text from him tonight. His number wasn't even in my phone, but he was in town. Did I want to see him?
I looked down and felt too fat to go.
So I ignored his text for 40 minutes and took a quick nap. I opened my eyes, reached for my phone, and texted him back.
"Let's meet for a drink." (a drink? MISTAKE. b/c drinks make me FAT)
And so we did. It was interesting. Five years is a LONG time, and you guys know a little about my life. It's been nuts for years. My early twenties have been volatile. Needless to say, we filled each other in, as best we could given the circumstances (time being of the essence; he leaves at the crack of dawn). I enjoyed myself, he paid for the drinks. He is doing good. He is a pilot...he owns a small plane, and lives in an airplane hangar.
That is so, unbelievably...hot.
Five years and his face is the same. He has the beginnings of an accent (he's lived out there for 6 years) and he is still exactly my same height.
That's the weirdest, worst? thing.
I like my men tall.
He is my height. And yet, when we were sitting and standing it didn't bother me. It didn't feel any different when we hugged...it was like hugging a girlfriend, just really up close and personal.
He is very handsome.
Just...short. It sucks that I care.
Oh shit, what am I even thinking. He is leaving in six hours.
It was good to see him.
On the other hand,
I am a fat pig for binging on those bbq chips when I got home from the bar. It's just that the lonesomeness started rising. Up and up until I'm reaching for food. It surrounds me, it glows puke green and my eyes glaze and the haze all over makes it easier to hide my grazing, for I am truly a cow in a pasture, feasting on filth before the butcher.
I feel gross.