I told you I was going to be okay if you said what was on your mind, but honestly, nothing could've prepared me for the words that came out of your mouth. After getting off of the phone with you, I burst into tears. Those words shattered my heart and continuously repeated in my head.
"You're an amazing woman. You're everything I've ever wanted...but I can't get past the back rolls."
I couldn't wrap my head around it. You knew that I was losing weight and that my back rolls were my biggest motivator to do so, yet that was the reason I couldn't be loved. For months that followed, I was struggling to maintain a stable mentality.
One minute I was cocky, and the next I was crying because I hated myself with my whole heart. I would come home from work to my dark bedroom, lock the door, and cry myself to sleep almost every night because my self-worth and self-confidence were absolutely demolished.
I took my anger towards you out on the people I loved.
Not only that, but it was so hard to start over. I warned every person I matched with that I had back rolls. Almost every day after your back rolls comment, I began to overwork myself during my workouts at an unhealthy rate. There were times I'd work out until I'd see blotches and almost pass out from exhaustion.
I would spend hours looking at myself in the mirror, pinching the fat that I wished I could cut off.
I was absolutely brokenhearted. You were not only someone I had feelings for, but you were also my guy best friend. You were someone that I absolutely trusted with all my worries, insecurities, and feelings. I actually looked up to you. You were confident, hardworking, and resilient, which was everything I aspired to be. Yet, you managed to absolutely destroy every bit of love I had for myself with eight words. While we didn't date, the connection we had as best friends was enough to make the situation break my heart.
I realized I need to stop blaming myself for staying single. The problem wasn't me. It was you.
You weren't as put-together as you led me to believe. I put the pieces together after I remembered the times you'd show me off like a trophy to all of your buddies and the times you said that if I sent you risqué pictures while you were working, you'd have to show your co-workers.
The problem wasn't the little folds in my back where my torso drastically curved into my hips. It was your own insecurity. You cared so much about your own self-image that you destroyed mine.
Thank you for being the worst heartbreak that I've ever had.
Thank you for choosing the other girl. Thank you for the great memories. If I got stuck with you, I probably wouldn't be able to look in the mirror to tell myself "I love you." I probably wouldn't be embracing who I truly am, so I'm grateful. I really am.
