My boyfriend and I broke up five months ago. It was sad and a part of me will miss him, but it was for the better and I will always respect him. Just kidding, he’s an ignorant fuck who deserves everything he has coming for him. To occupy my mind with something other than actively hating his guts, I went to the gym and mindlessly bounced on the elliptical for a little while to sweat out my feelings. Even though I was doing everything I could to keep my mind on healthy things, I still woke up feeling like I lost a little part of myself. I kept focusing on my healthy lifestyle despite this feeling, but more and more of me was withering away. One morning I woke up and looked in the mirror. I saw a whole new person. The woman staring back at me was one skinny bitch. That couldn’t be me, but it was. It seemed impossible. Where did all that weight go? I had to find out.
I searched everywhere in my room. Under my bed, behind my dresser, even in the pile of clothes I left on my chair in the corner. There was nothing. I went to the gym to look for the weight I lost. I checked all around the cardio area and by the select machines that the homophobic gym rats think are too gay to use. All I got was a glimpse of my svelte figure on the wall of mirrors. I drove home defeated. Where could I have left that much of myself? I racked my brain for all the places that I had frequented lately. It wasn’t at any fast food restaurants, because I stopped going to them. It couldn’t be where I used to buy beer or wine, because now I only drink clear liquor and only when I go out. What had been missing from my life along with a percentage of my body fat? The answer struck me so hard I almost swerved off the road. My ex.
As soon as I got back to my apartment, I ran inside. My roommate saw the expression on my face and stopped me for a moment. “Jane, you look really hot, but also kind of flustered. Are you ok?” I nodded and shook her off before running to my room and slamming the door behind me. I had to see my ex, but without him knowing. First, I checked the Snapchat story of his friends. He made glimpsing appearances, but not enough to draw any real conclusions. I got a little brave and searched his Instagram. He doesn’t post often, but from what I saw, he had filled out a bit since the last time I saw him. I had avoided running into him on campus and was able to avert my eyes when we were in the same bar, so I couldn’t be sure. Then I dove into the créme de la créme of creeping. Tagged Instagram pictures. Anyone who posts to Instagram picks the best picture of themselves, regardless of how haggard everyone else looks. That’s when I found it. A horrible picture of my ex with all the weight I had lost, and then some. At first I was infuriated. First he took my time, my heart, and now, inches off of my waist. I could spend the rest of my life resenting him, but instead I choose to let it go. If he needs all that extra weight, then he can have it. I actually feel pretty good without it..
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