Inktober: Bulky
I was always the bulky kid. Now, over thirty years later, I still am that bulky guy. I’m not fat. I’m certainly not overweight at all. I’m tall, muscular and well, bulky.
When the others tried to mock me, I really didn‘t care all that much. I never got into a fight over such nonsense. When the girls I liked, told me that I wasn’t good looking enough... yeah, I guess I was sad, though not enough to start hating myself, like other children my age did. I just kept going on. I wasn’t the most clever one, rather average intelligent, I must say. I got into a decent job, get paid enough for my standards and have found some nice friends over the years, who I like to hang out with.
Was I lonely? Not in particular. I have a dog as my favorite companion and he loves me as dearly as I love him. He is like me, a little bulky, a little clumsy and of rather average intelligence, I must say. With lots of straint I taught him to sit and lay down. I really don’t mind that much, I wanted a friend, not a minion. If Taylor doesn’t want to give me his paw, he doesn’t have to.
Sometimes I wondered, though. Wondered, if only the pretty, slim people are allowed to find true love.
Sure, I have dated before. It just never sparked.
One day, however, I started chatting with a nice woman who was interested in the same things as I was and she made hillarious jokes that really cracked me up. As we got to know each other I grew more and more nervous. Her profile picture was that of a slim, young beauty. Sure she wouldn’t be willing to date someone like me for long.
We finally decided on a place and time to meet up for the first date, anyway, and I said to myself, I got to try at least. You‘ll never know unless you try, is what my dad used to say.
Sitting on the bench in the park, my nervousness grew into full blown panic. What if she just didn‘t come? What if she got cold feet? Or a friend told her that she could do better? She probably could... Who was I even kidding?
Ten minutes had passed while I was dying on the inside, when the owner of a soft voice cleared her throat right next to me, making me jump from the bench.
„I‘m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,“ the woman said. She slightly resembled the woman I was chatting with.
„Arianna?“ My confusion must have been written all over my face. She blushed and nodded, not looking into my eyes.
„I’m sorry,“ she repeated. „You must be so disappointed. My friends made me take that old highschool picture and now I‘m so... fat.“
Before she could start to cry, which she clearly was about to, and before I could even think about what I was doing, I embraced my future wife and whispered: „Not fat. Just bulky.“