Former fat guy dating

01 Oct

The slap of my mother's hand against my bare stomach rings out and fills the entire store. When we lived in Boston, my father would go for runs through the city as I rode my bike beside him, trying to keep up.I watch as my belly jiggles in the mirror mounted on the large column in front of us. But Dad stayed in Boston and Ma and I moved out to north central Massachusetts.The same way I don't cry under the fluorescent lights at Stuart’s, surrounded by clothes that don’t fit and we can’t afford.It’s summer, I’m 16 years old, and I’m the skinniest I've ever been, thanks to a diet of running, cigarettes, and snorted Ritalin (usually) and Adderall (when I can get my hands on it).But then I started running even more and adding dip to my all-cigarette diet while upping my nose's intake of my friends' prescription amphetamines.As the weight kept coming off, I didn't see myself as any less ugly.

It means fat is bad and getting skinnier is good, no matter how I actually feel about myself.

Most days I drive my mother's three-colored car (all different shades of blue) to Gardner, Massachusetts, the closest town with any downtown to speak of, where I have a job at a Friendly’s washing dishes.

At the beginning of the summer, the weight seemed to fall off me.

You know, a house party.”It's one of those moments so improbable that I must be imagining it — but also so wonderful, so hoped for and delicious and exactly like the kind of '90s teen movie I never thought I’d get to be in except maybe as a chubby extra, that I desperately want it to be real.

I’d never been invited to a party by a girl before.