The world, rewritten in boy-speak

  1. I meet him and I hate him already. He tries to talk to me like talking to me is a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing. He is utterly incorrect. He belongs on a different planet from me. A planet filled with pretty successful people. Where all the girls wear string bikinis and all the boys own impressively sized checking accounts. I stare at his face and gulp and nod weakly at his words until he goes away.
  2. Love at first sight is the dream. But I don’t know what he feels and over time that not knowing, not trusting, tears me apart. I am filled with energy and I am always smiling but it’s really only ever because he’s here.
  3. I never learned how to talk to straight men. Also I have spent the past four years in Gender Studies historical women’s college land not talking to straight guys. I keep hoping maybe if I look cute enough or say the right thing, he’ll come over again. But I still don’t know what to say.
  4. I want to take all my clothes off in front of him, but we are surrounded by skinny girls in string bikinis. He talks to them, but looks at me. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s happening. I feel instinctively that there is something I am supposed to be doing, something to bring him near me, but I don’t know what that is. And I think they would all laugh at me, him and his friends. Best to keep to the margins.
  5. I spend a lot of days staring at the back of his head. It is as ridiculous as it sounds. I feel ridiculous doing it. I am trying to memorize as much about him as I can, for when he leaves. Sometimes I talk really loudly and hope he overhears. I talk to all sorts of other people because I want to talk to him so badly. But if I do, I might say something stupid, like be mine.
  6. I get in the pool without knowing he is also in the pool. My body fills up with light and tingling energy. I do handstands all the while figuring I look dumb. There is a beautiful girl in a gold bikini at the other end of the pool. I am so angry at G-D. I know I have no chance with him. I am trying to do the right thing and accept it, but hurts. It hurts unbearably.
  7. He has started snarling when he sees me. This is probably for the best. I see him and I freeze, and stare, trying not to apologize for being already fat and old and ugly.
  8. Other guys hit on me, rotely. I don’t know how to stop them. I hate myself so I don’t stop them. I flirt back to be polite. Boundaries what boundaries? Boundaries are for women who are loved. Boundaries are for bodies that matter. I have learned over and over that mine does not.
  9. I hold him when he cries and it is magic, touching him. Finally having something to give that I can give. But then when I accidentally grab his hand and what I want to give changes to sex ringing in my ear, I run.
  10. I refuse to eat lunch with him. I refuse to eat with him. I already feel like the fattest woman in this whole universe. I already feel like I am breaking every taboo, by wanting him. The cost to him will be minimal but the cost to me will be epic. I am already paying.
  11. We are hanging out and he insists, nothing is happening. We are spending time but he is right, of course. Nothing can happen. Some other guy hits on me and he doesn’t stop it. So I smile politely and take a picture with someone else. I wish I was anywhere else. Like in the past before I knew anything could hurt this much.
  12. I mess up, a lot of times. He is interested but I am too many steps ahead and trying to explain why sex might not be good for him. He says fine I just want to be friends and I’m thinking I don’t know how to get you naked, maybe if I were a different person. I tell him, I’ve always wanted a big brother, because maybe if I go along with being platonic, I can keep him.
  13. I wake up sure that we miscommunicated and I made a mistake but then. I take a walk and my fat girl thighs are bleeding, and I remember exactly who I am, what this body is. I am cold to him at breakfast and desperate all day long. I sit by the pool waiting for him but he walks away. I flirt absentmindedly with every guy who crosses my path wishing they were him. I stare and stare at him from behind my sunglasses. I am not someone who plays games and this isn’t a game to me. I just don’t want to hurt anymore and I am filled with something made of fire and very bloody. In the pool he organizes a game of chicken and I am too fat to play chicken and I give up.
  14. I am too desperate to pay attention to what anyone else thinks. It is a mistake. I buy condoms at the pharmacy while my partners in crime hold back fat girl sex jokes, at least until I’m not around. At night I tilt my pelvis against the boy’s and murmur happy Shabbas. I am trying so hard not to cling. Not to pour myself into his lap and beg forgiveness for being born into this broken body.
  15. That night I hook up with no one, but he thinks I have. I tell myself it’s for the best. I tell myself this way, things are clean, between us. Along the way I walk off with another guy who grabs me and puts hands on me against my will and it takes minutes before I get up the energy to stop him. Everyone thinks fat girls are desperate but me, I’m just tired. Just so tired. I feel like I’m in the Red Room in Twin Peaks, like the guys all see me as an extension of themselves. A mustang to be caught, a wildcat feminist to be tamed. Not my own story.
  16. I don’t want anyone knowing I love him. I don’t want anyone laughing at me, or worse, mocking him for not seeing why I don’t belong in his fairy tale.
  17. I don’t know how to reach him anymore. I have a daydream that if I can take him into bed and hold him and make him feel loved, maybe I can fix it. Whatever broke in him on this trip. He says yes but doesn’t show up. I just wanted to give him something. I know better than to take what I don’t deserve.
  18. What I have learned about sex is that it burns. It still burns. I sat behind him and breathed lust on him and it wasn’t fair. He swam out into the ocean to me and I waited for him to kiss me, why did I wait? Many years of being told nice Jewish girls don’t want sex but he made me want. He made me want him.
  19. Humans make everything so hard. Fucking someone in the ocean or in a stairwell or wherever you can manage is taboo but my body doesn’t care. I would have let him have me anywhere, not out of self hatred or disrespect at all. But out of love for something bigger than myself.
  20. You are not supposed to fall in love in ten days. If you are fat you are not supposed to fall in love period. If you are a woman you are not supposed to choose who gets to fuck you. If you are traumatized it is easier to call you crazy, especially when you tell men everything they think they know about what makes a woman desire is wrong. Capitalism relies on us not choosing who we love. It ruins the demographic. Capitalism wants to choose for us. I ruined this thing in part by acting like a woman of my own demographic, not his. Saving him from the margins where I live. But who will save me?
  21. He is happy now, with someone else. I am all filled up with wanting him that has nowhere to go. My body says love me to an empty room. I hook up sometimes it sad and I feel used and when I tell them fuck me I don’t mean it. It doesn’t ease the burning anyway. Just makes me feel numb for a minute.
  22. He was my one and only and I gave him up. I hate him now, for existing. I try to hate him. But most of the time, I miss him too much to go through with it.

Writes all the things. Photographs the light. Smiles at odd moments. Reads in the shower. Sings to the trees. Hopes a lot.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store