Two nights ago, as I was watching “My 600 Pound Life”. I didn’t cry for the 600 pounder, I cried for me.
Not because I’m 600#, thank Christ.
But I cried because the 600#er found love.
Now, don’t get me wrong, almost everyone deserves love, no matter their size.
But, I thought, here I am, mostly functional, average size, average looks, fairly intelligent, fun (so I’m told)… yet, love eludes me.
So I cried.
I am not a person who cries very much. If you’ve seen me cry, I was either despondent or seriously pissed off.
I suppose it’s good to cry now and then, or so I’m told. I didn’t cry for long, and never got to the smothering puppies stage.
But, I’m past that now.