Unexpected Weight Loss

By E.G. (My first guest blogger)

About a month ago, I lost 190 pounds. 190 pounds of tall, dark and handsome. 190 pounds of sinew and smell-good. 190 pounds of distinctly male essence bound up inside a decidedly beautiful frame.
And it was the most devastating disappointment of my whole life. The man I had chosen, who had (briefly) chosen me, decided that what we had together was no longer valuable to him. Without explanation, he abandoned what he once described as rare and precious. He threw away something he said he had been waiting for his whole life. Me.

Me with the intelligence, the strength of will, the hair, the eyes, the natural beauty he said he had waited for for so long. Me with the ability to make him feel like his life was not so complicated. Me with the spirit that challenged him. Me with the discipline he admired. Me with the tolerance that made him feel accepted just as he was. Me.

So, here I am. Minus 190 pounds. Weightless, really. Confused because the man I want doesn’t want me anymore and never gave any reason as to why his feelings changed.

So, here I am. Minus 190 pounds. Weightless, really. Confused because the man I want doesn’t want me anymore and never gave any reason as to why his feelings changed. Sad because the man I want does not possess the character of the man I ultimately want to be with. Indignant because the life I uprooted for him, in hopes of putting down roots with him, feels suddenly aimless and unfulfilled. The life I loved before I met him has returned to me but is somehow less loved. The me I loved before I met him has also returned but is somehow less appreciated in view of its recent rejection. The now-me feels not quite enough even though it formerly filled every inch and crevice of any room I entered.

The life I loved before I met him has returned to me but is somehow less loved.

So, I’m here. Suddenly svelte without my 190 pounds. Disappointed. Sad. Indignant. Devastated and waiting for The Lord to put me back together. Fearful that I’ll never be the same…that I’m worse for the wear and that I’ll never be satisfied with the life I’m subjected to live in the absence of a once glorious weight.

But don’t I look skinny?