Wednesday, May 01, 2002
Well, I've got a thought I want to put down today!
(Well, I do most days, but remembered this today! Gotta get into the habit, this thing won't write itself, will it?)
Ian had another of his ‘official weigh ins’ this morning. My god is that that guy getting fat! Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s the cauldron calling the kettle black, but still, he likes me fat, I hate him fat, so that’s fair, right?
Anyway, he’s like three hundred and thirty something pounds. He was a trim 200 when I started dating him! I know, it’s important to love the person inside, but still, that’s a lot of fucking fat!
And it’s weird, I outweigh him, but in clothes, he looks bigger than me! It’s because of the way the clothes he wears drape, which sort of create a ‘filling in’ effect, where as my clothes are tight, and don’t leave a lot to the imagination (I can’t hide that I’m fat, so why try?).
It’s because his stomach is simply HUGE! His waistline has got to be larger than mine ( maybe we’ll try to find out sometime). Of course, the rest of me is way fatter, but it’s all about the illusion, right? It makes him look somewhat comical really, when he’s naked.
His gut protrudes and hangs down. It’s soft, covered in stretch marks. (Of course, this could describe me too… am I a big fat hypocrite or what?). He has to sort of waddle, like a pregnant woman, because of the center of gravity.
What’s funny is that his legs are MUCH smaller than mine. You can see the muscles through the fat (can’t on mine), and his legs are quite large, but just not in proportion to his belly. And his arms seem spindly, and they rest on his the sides of his stomach, rather than hanging at his side. Even my arms don’t do that!
He’s started complaining about back trouble. And the constant treadmill to keep clothes clean (stop spilling you slob!). He’s just not meant to be fat. I really and truly DO think that I was meant to be fat. I like how I look. Ian likes how I look. If I could get back to Ian’s weight, I’d be very happy indeed!
But I don’t like Ian being fat.
(Well, I do most days, but remembered this today! Gotta get into the habit, this thing won't write itself, will it?)
Ian had another of his ‘official weigh ins’ this morning. My god is that that guy getting fat! Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s the cauldron calling the kettle black, but still, he likes me fat, I hate him fat, so that’s fair, right?
Anyway, he’s like three hundred and thirty something pounds. He was a trim 200 when I started dating him! I know, it’s important to love the person inside, but still, that’s a lot of fucking fat!
And it’s weird, I outweigh him, but in clothes, he looks bigger than me! It’s because of the way the clothes he wears drape, which sort of create a ‘filling in’ effect, where as my clothes are tight, and don’t leave a lot to the imagination (I can’t hide that I’m fat, so why try?).
It’s because his stomach is simply HUGE! His waistline has got to be larger than mine ( maybe we’ll try to find out sometime). Of course, the rest of me is way fatter, but it’s all about the illusion, right? It makes him look somewhat comical really, when he’s naked.
His gut protrudes and hangs down. It’s soft, covered in stretch marks. (Of course, this could describe me too… am I a big fat hypocrite or what?). He has to sort of waddle, like a pregnant woman, because of the center of gravity.
What’s funny is that his legs are MUCH smaller than mine. You can see the muscles through the fat (can’t on mine), and his legs are quite large, but just not in proportion to his belly. And his arms seem spindly, and they rest on his the sides of his stomach, rather than hanging at his side. Even my arms don’t do that!
He’s started complaining about back trouble. And the constant treadmill to keep clothes clean (stop spilling you slob!). He’s just not meant to be fat. I really and truly DO think that I was meant to be fat. I like how I look. Ian likes how I look. If I could get back to Ian’s weight, I’d be very happy indeed!
But I don’t like Ian being fat.
// posted by Charlotte @ 11:56:00 AM 
