A Letter to My Fat(t)

My dear, darling Wobbly Bits,

This was one farewell letter I never thought I would write.  You have been with me for so long, it seemed a bit unrealistic that you'd ever leave.

You were there for me during some very vulnerable moments in my life.  You helped shape my junior high and high school experience.  To be fair, I didn't really care for you then.  You caused a LOT of hurt feelings and anger.  I blamed you as the sole reason why I never dated in high school, although truthfully, it was probably because I was kind of a know-it-all bitch.  That's a story for another day, my friend.

Instead, I really want to reminisce about all of our lovely times together.  Boy, we had some hoots, didn't we?  I'll never forget the myriad of times you helped pop a button or two off my pants.  Oh, lawdy, it seemed like you always did it at
the most inopportune and embarrassing moments!  Hilarious, dear friend.  I mean, there is nothing like losing a button and having to go all day trying to carefully orchestrate my movements so no one saw my tan knickers underneath.  Haha...you are truly one of a kind fatt.  I'm designating you an extra 'T' for Terrific, because that's how much you mean to me.

What about that time that we overheard a guy's friends talk about you?  Oh my, I was riled up that day.  Here we were, just having a fun time with a guy we both found interesting, only to hear his friends wonder why he would ever be with someone who was fatt.  How dare they insult you?  I just upped and walked out of there on your behalf.  I was appalled for you, and myself.

That's okay though, I knew our relationship was rock solid.  You were there when I was (non)dumped  (It's a long story for another time, really) by my college boyfriend and comforted me through that horrid, desperate last semester.  You gave me some cushion for that hurt.  You listened to Trisha Yearwood's "How Do I live" with me over and over ad nauseam until my friends threatened to throw away that CD.  You were there when he tried to get back together with me and I told him we were different people and let him know I was moving on.  You helped me be strong.  It probably helped that there was a lot more of you in the weeks and months following that breakup.

Don't forget how exciting you made it when I danced!  So much fun, wasn't it?!  Fatt, you really helped those wobbly bits jiggle to the music!  It was always entertaining when you were around.  I probably couldn't have consumed nearly as many Lemon Drop shots without you!

Oh my, I'm already talking about you in the past tense.  I can't believe it!  37 years I've found comfort in you.  37 years I've talked bad about you, loved you, hated you, tried to banish you from my life only to have you return like Arnie in that one movie.  You know, Expendables 2, when he comes back to help fight the bad guys with Sly Stallone and Jason Statham...oh, Statham...muscles...I digress.  Sorry.

Anywho, we've had a ride, haven't we?   You were even there when I met and fell in love with the most fantastic man, my husband Rick.  Do you remember that first rush of emotions and every subsequent squeeze thereafter?  I even remember after he proposed and someone asked if I was going to try to get rid of you before the wedding.  I vehemently denied that prospect.  I mean, why would I do that to you fatt?  If he loved you and I together, surely you belonged there as much as my bridesmaids?

You really settled in after Rick and I were married.  I had the happy and now I had even more of the fatt.  I was truly fatt and happy.  I still am, though there's less of you than there was.  For some reason, my energy and subsequent happiness has increased considerably as you have been packing up.

But alas, old friend, it's time to say goodbye.  It's been a long and arduous journey, but I think we're both better off apart.  I'm glad you aren't just GONE, without a backwards glance.  I'm glad you are taking your time in moving on, I don't want to rush you.  It's hard to lose you though.  My husband doesn't have as much of me to squeeze without you.  My wobbly bits don't jiggle as much when I am dancing as they used to.  My pants are eons away from popping buttons now.  In fact, they are barely hanging on to my hips most of the time nowadays.

Don't expect a reunion any time soon, though.  I will not be going all Lloyd Dobler on you, no "In your Eyes" playing on a raised boombox to get you back.  We've had a lot of fun, you and I, but it's time.  This is the last hurrah.  I will miss you...but we'll always have the memories.

One last John Bender fist in the air for you, my friend.

Goodbye.