Sunday, April 1, 2012
I'm a fat pig (who is simultaneously too thin)
"Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions. Let's go back to the start."
For those of you who have followed my blog for some time now (firstly, thank you so much for following me for so long) may have guessed by the title of this post and by the opening line that I have seen the professor. I was supposed to see him on a weekly basis, but managed to convince him that I didn't need to. But if I'm honest, then I'd say that I love seeing him and his wife. I absolutely adore them. I love being with him.
You don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you I set you apart.
That's how he makes me feel. He's not actually quoted those lyrics, although I do think he's said "you don't know how lovely you are" or something along those lines. When I'm with him, and I'm too distracted by him to get into my own head, in those moments, I feel so special.
He knows just what advice to give me. He knows what I want to say, but am too scared to say, and he knows how to ask me about it. He knows how to make me feel better about myself. He knows not to push me too far.
It's so odd. He's never said it, but I feel so loved by him. Maybe it's how he always understands what I'm trying to do, even when neither of us verbalises it. Maybe it's how he will give me a big hug and kiss when we say hello or goodbye. Maybe it's how he will randomly hug me as we are walking and tell me how good it is to see me and how good I'm looking. Maybe it's how he will fluff my hair or tuck loose strands behind my ear. Maybe it's how he gives my cheek a little pinch when I blush. Maybe.
I've not seen him for a long time, maybe 2 months. He tells me that I look very thin. And we spend some time talking about ED. I tell him that I never notice it when I lose weight, but I can feel every ounce of weight that I gain. I tell him that I hate having curves. He says that every man loves curves and prefers curvy women. I tell him that I hate the feeling of having curves, it feels horrible. He looks at me in a sad way.
The three of us have lunch and spend the afternoon wandering through art galleries. It's almost a surreal experience. Conversation and banter flows so naturally with them. I have absolutely no qualms about asking them for advice about Ben. I love hearing the stories they have. He teaches me about art. And she will roll her eyes at me when he cracks a dry joke. I feel like I belong there, with them, even though I don't.