I am. See here.
Used to be she was kind of chubby and I was a fit basketball player, and she was kinda crushin and I was cooler than the Fonz. Now I’m overweight, not the kind of overweight where people groan when you take an airplane seat next to them but the kind of overweight where your doctor and his assistant and the nurse and her assistant and everybody else on earth except the assistant coach of the national soccer team of Togo and the King of Spain but he sent his sister, and they’re all making suggestions like I should reevaluate my eating habits and get some exercise and get some exercise and get some exercise and oh yeah I should get some exercise too, and Her Royal Highness says I should really be practicing my Spanish more too, and doing some exercising while I’m at it. Anyway, so now I have all these fond memories of amazing moments I took for granted before, like when my parents were out of town and she snuck out of her house and slept in my arms and we had amazing sex all night and all morning and a few times in between when we woke each other up, and she told me she felt safe in my arms and I felt fantastic and I had no idea how hard those moment would be to come by two years later, when I went to college and lived in a dorm and gained weight and came back and kept all the weight no matter what I did, and I thought another girl was really into me and we went out for a chunk of a year and I found out she was using me to get a green card and there were lies, lies, lies, and I found out I was just a 20-year-old guy living a 50-year-old divorcee’s life. I went shopping for clothes the other day and I had a really nice conversation with a girl at the clothing store and then I walked over to the bookstore where I knew the girl who was working there and we had a really nice conversation and we even made plans to travel to Canada later this summer, and when I went home I had all kinds of wild fantasies about what we’d do in Vancouver and now I wonder if I’m just a travel buddy who she’s known me for a short enough time that she can send me signs that she’s interested when she’s really not because I’m that kind of overweight where the Spanish royal family is not really mad, just disappointed, and let me tell you, that’s just as bad because my understanding of Spanish really breaks down when I get emotional. Plus the whole “no companionship of any kind except my cat and my parents who are shutting me off from all my friends”. And pretty girls who work in stores who are maybe just being nice because I’m a good customer and I’m helping them stay awake during a long night shift and I’m a convenient travel buddy too. Sigh.
Me too. I have no means to get intoxicated, is the worst part.