I’ve realized something for a while now about myself. I’m that fat best friend. I’m the girl in the romantic comedy who is less pretty than the main character and is there to listen to the hot main character when she breaks up with her hot boyfriend, who is there when the hot girl finally gets back with her prince charming and is there when they get married acting all fucking happy.While in reality she’s probably really thinking “haha, yes I am holding your fucking bouquet, I am sooooo fucking happy that you found your prince charming and that you are gorgeous and have fallen love, while I am this fat slob standing beside you and I haven’t found ANYONE! Yes I am so fucking happy for you and I am going to stand here with a big ass fake smile on my face as if I am reaaaallly happy.”
Ya, I’m that girl.
It has been a thought in my head for some time now. I really am that fucking slightly less attractive best friend! And I swore to myself that I would be the main character of my own life movie. Well…it isn’t fucking working. I am still single, slightly overweight and getting more bitter and cynical by the second.
Can I set the scene for you? It was something out of a fucking move I swear.
Setting: trashy club, everyone drunk, dark good music playing
Me: standing from afar watching S chat up some girl. I could see him clearly and my stomach fell to my knees. It was basically the worst case scenario. And the fucked up part was that I HELPED HIM HOOK UP? How fucked is that? How fucking fucked is that?!?!?!?!?!?! I could litereally feel myself shrinking from the whole room and I had like a telescope just on him. It was horrible.
I could kick myself in the vagina. wtf is wrong with me?
Even more fucked…As I was chatting to this girl and her friend I was totally chatting up S. As if I didn’t give a care in the world if they hooked up. As if I didn’t care for him, or wanted him to kiss me, or care for me the way I care for him. As if I dind’t care that he was into this girl who was really less attractive than me.
Cut to 4 am in the morning. I have just left the club, I left S and the fat bitch (o.k not really, but she was fatter than me) knowing full well they are going to hook up. It’s raining and I walk home alone at 4am in the morning. Can you picture this scene? Like honestly it is something out of a movie. I was sobbing down the street and didn’t give a fat fuck who heard or saw me. While all this is happening, it’s like a movie reel in my mind is playing. CUt to an hour later of crying and walking I sit at the town hall and cry some more. OH! and before that I stop for shelter at a random house, and stand under their balcony. The man comes out and asks if he can do anything. How embarrassing. But at the time I didn’t give a fuck.and to be honest, I still don’t give a fuck.
I hate that I am this girl. I have always despised girls like this, who pine after someone who doesn’t want them. I mean what is the point? The sickening part is, is that I knew all along that he wasn’t into me. The reality is, is that he doesn’t have any friends and is just using me b/c I know where things are and am willing to hang out with him. He doens’t give a fuck about me.
But I do care about him. even still. after all this.
I don’t think I can be his friend.