My four-month anniversary is coming up and it only took 28 years and 11 months to achieve. From the moment I was born, I was built to sabotage myself into being alone. In junior high, a girl literally told me I was cute, and I sarcastically said something about how fantastic that was and then ran away. Granted, that was junior high, but really Jeremy? Really?
In high school a girl asked me if I wanted to tan with her in her backyard. I responded by telling her I couldn’t because I had to do math homework and I didn’t even have any math homework. A few weeks later I volunteered to watch X-Men with her little brother. I don’t remember my thought process during this whole ordeal, but I imagine it’s similar to that of a crystal meth addict weaning himself off over the course of maybe one hour and suffering severe withdrawals. “Hey! I know you’re really cute and want to lay shirtless with me, but I’d rather watch a movie with your brother.” I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never spoke to me again. And she didn’t.
In college, a girl in my apartment told me I was the most attractive man she works with, and then I told her goodbye and she left.
I don’t know which one of these three scenarios is worse, but it doesn’t matter. If none of these had occurred, I wouldn’t have learned to not do stupid things, and wouldn’t have forced myself to rebuild my life. I would have settled down with one of these three women, remained fat and horrible, and she eventually would have divorced me. I do want to note that fat and horrible are two separate things, and your body size says nothing about you as a person. It was just another factor that made me feel miserable.
I needed to fall in order to get myself back up. I am now back up, but still limping. The most glaring difference in my life is my girlfriend. I know bragging about my girlfriend in a blog about online dating sounds pompous, but I think I’ve been self-conscious on here for long enough to merit that.
under Single Life
Exactly one year and one night ago, I was laying in bed, just like I had been for the previous consecutive 73 hours, aside from the two beelines to the toilet and the pain and energy it took to roll over every few hours so that my body could be in a good enough position to allow oxygen to flow from my lungs to my nose, without being obstructed by the debilitating effects of gravity on fat. I remember laying there, thinking about how fat and horrible I was and that it had to change. Something clicked. I know people say that when they decide to make big changes about themselves. Kind of like that cliche of the cannibal who, one night, decided that after eating all these dudes suddenly had a hankering for steak. Or the suicidal man at the top of a bridge who suddenly decided to strap on a cord and become a professional bungee jumper.
Though I had tried diets and losing weight countless times before, with each one, I knew they would fail. I wasn’t really into them, and I just liked food and not doing anything way too much. This time, I knew I was going to do it from the beginning. I think you have to know you will succeed or you won’t. Either go all in, or don’t go in at all. Either devote an entire year to a strict diet, or let it all hang out. There really is no in-between. If you’re not devoted to it, just eat whatever you want all the time. I’m completely serious. There’s no point to a diet if you just feel guilty every once in a while and decide to have a random healthy meal. Just eat whatever the hell you want until something clicks and you become totally devoted to losing weight. If you’re doing both, kind of in-between, you’re going to have the worst of both worlds. You’re going to be fat and you’re going to sometimes eat horrible, healthy foods.
I guess I figured that once the weight disappeared, the women would come. I started listening to this cornfield and it’s told me some really interesting stuff. I don’t think it was telling me the truth, here, though. Don’t listen to corn and do not base all of your off-topic jokes on 23-year-old movies that nobody will have remembered. They have not yet arrived, but I will be waiting, with your favorite flowers.
Maybe tonight, something will again click and I will be just as devoted to amassing millions of dollars over the next year. Or I will decide that I have to suddenly become a world-famous concert pianist. Who knows, maybe a year and a day from now I’ll be writing a similar blog post in a blog for Jewish people seeking relationships with beautiful new pianos.