Day #1 (early special) “You’ve gone fat :P”

“You’ve gone fat :P”

How do you even respond to that?

I tried to play it cool, last night, at around 2 in the morning, when I decided I would go ahead and get back in contact with a crush from back four years ago. I didn’t really have a plan on where the conversation was going, but I definitely didn’t think he would end up calling me fat.

A little bit of a background story, shall we? I met him in eighth grade. Something about him clicked, and some pathetic nonexistent love story formed. This love story consists of a stupid teenage girl (me!) obsessing over a dude whose pants hung too low around his waist. It wasn’t the most romantic of stories, to say the least.

Anyway, the last time I texted him was before I moved.  I told him about my feelings, you know… how I was madly in love with him and stuff. I remember him responding to my confessions, all too nonchalantly, “I knew it all along.”  Whatever, Mr. Know-it-all.

It would have been pretty awkward and nerve-wrecking getting back in touch with him after that, so I did not.  I haven’t spoken with him for about four years, more or less, since then. Last night though, I did it. While I had disregarded the thought of finding a way to get back in contact with him again, for so long too, I decided I would text him. I knew it would be awkward, especially considering our last conversation and the fact that we both knew what ‘research’ I had to do to get back in touch with him, and find his kik, but I was determined, anxious, and also believe it or not, excited.

The conversation was supposed to begin as a guessing game, but he said he wouldn’t be able to ever guess, so the game was out of the picture pretty quick. I ended up telling him who I was and, cover your ears kids, his response: “fuck.”

Definitely. not. what. I. had. in. mind.

Anyway, he needed a picture as proof it was me, and I guessed that was fair enough. I sent him two pictures; one of the remarkable, and stunning Mr. Grinch, and another of me: looking pretty scary (it was a silly picture of me with too much editing, and a bunch of Halloween-monster effects) . I commented that whichever scared him the most was me. Totally playing it cool, I know.

And his response?  “You’ve gone fat :P”

I decided not to comment on how that sentence could not possibly be grammatically correct — I mean, I’m no English scholar, but really? “gone fat”

Regardless, I could have very well took this as a compliment, because everyone is always telling me I should gain weight (it is also one of my new years resolutions), but I actually felt hurt. No wait, not hurt, exactly, maybe slightly insulted? I’m sure he could have come up with something else to say, (oh wow, you look absolutely stunning you should apply for vogue or cover girl, so when did you become a model?) but again, whatever.

It  sure wasn’t one of those romantic ‘Oh my Santa! We haven’t spoken in years, let us elope” conversations — thank God to that too — and it definitely was not what I had in mind, but I have got to admit, I wouldn’t want it any other way. He didn’t make it awkward, and he wasn’t as jerky as I once remember him to be… he could still work on it though.

The most important thing is that I did it. I overcame that voice in my head, and did something –while small– that I would normally avoid. The cherry on top? he said I would overcome the awkward phase, and gave me some advice on simply not caring about what others think, just like he does not.

He contributed in more ways then one to my blog, but not in more ways then two.