A is for Ass

F is for Found

Wait. Back up. Back step.

That never happened. He never saw ME.

Well, we did have sex. A lot of sex. J told me I was beautiful, but sometimes he looked a little pained when he said it. He never saw me because all he saw was my fat. Apparently it disgusted him. For almost two years. Even after he told me he loved me.

He thought I was too fat for him.

Looking back from the aftermath is difficult. Even though he told me things like, "Even if you lost weight your body wouldn't be my ideal" and "I don't want to wait for you to lose the weight," I still miss him or the idea of him or my idealized vision of him that only exists in my written fantasies. I still hope beyond logic.

So on his birthday I sent him an email and offered to buy him lunch. He accepted said offer. I emailed him on Sunday to make plans, and he said he was "booked" and would have to take a rain check. It was curt, cold. I emailed him and suggested some other times and then said if he did not want to ever see me again, to please tell me. I offered the olive branch; the least he could do is say, "sorry, no thanks."

Or, maybe the least he could do is say he's sorry. Because while I've found that I have strength, resilience, and determination in the months since the break-up, I'm still looking for something, some acknowledgment of his ill treatment of me. One thing I know: I may never get it. One thing I hope: That eventually I won't care.

posted by CV @ 3:34 PM