Gordo

He said he can't look at himself in the mirror anymore. He doesn't like what he sees. I try to tell him that he can change yet he sinks, sinks deep into this sea of despair. Hubbi, I say, things that must be done must be done. You know this. You sit on it and you aggravate the problem and all the while, your mental health is deteriorating. He pays no heed to my advice. In front of me, he agrees and decides to change but soon, all is forgotten and we're back at square one. I guess I see a little bit of me in him. And so I tell him... hubbi, I say, you know like me you are indecisive. I always second-guess myself. Remember I told you I thought you were not shy or introverted? He asks me if I do now. No, not necessarily, I respond. But what do you call someone who second guesses? Not confident, that's it. How eloquent, he jokes. And we move on, another conversation, one of many more to come. He's troubled, I can tell. He told me how when he was coming up in the elevator, he looked at himself in the mirror and hated everything, from apple to pear, gordo. But he isn't the only one. I have a friend who is medically 20lbs underweight but still comments on how he is fat. What can I tell you, hubbi, other than that I love you, love handles and all. I tell you this and I see in your eyes that you do not believe me. I don't know what more I can do but I do feel a little bit of hatred for the community that made you feel this way, my increasing discomfort with associating with such superficialty. I just can't. I was there a week ago and I wanted to run away. I keep hearing Gandhi's words to be the change I wish to see in the world. Well, I renounce this then. I refuse to be superficial. I refuse to give in and try to fit in. I am, I will be, just me. And so should you, whether it be fat or ethnic or boring. Be what makes you happy, hubbi.