haven’t even dropped a
gram… I’m a little afraid of this...
“Hi,”
I say hesitating, as soon as I reach him.
He
looks up smiling and quickly puts the pages away. “Today we’ll weigh
ourselves.”
I
sigh. “I know.”
He
puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid… You can tell just by
looking that you’ve lost weight!”
“Really?”
I think for a bit. “Well actually my pants are a little looser…”.
He
waves at me to join him by the trunk. “Don’t you ever weigh yourself at home?”
“No.
Only with you. What an honor, right?” I joke to lighten the tension.
Andrea
gets the scale, he places it in front of my feet as usual. He hasn’t shaved
today either and this slight beard makes him even more beautiful, if possible. I
sigh and get on.
Seventy-seven
and a half.
I
jerk my head up and see him, all smiles, looking at the display on the scale.
“I can’t believe it!” I almost shout. He lifts his head and laughs. He’s beside
me, as always, but this time, instead of bothering me, I’m happy about his
closeness. I turn on impulse and embrace him. “I’m so happy…” I whisper near
his ear.
He
stiffens for an instant, immobile, then I feel his arms encircle me, picking me
up off the scale and setting me down a second afterwards. I detach myself
immediately once my feet touch the ground. When I look at him I can’t seem to
apologize in any other way than by repeating, “I’m so happy!”
He
nods, but his smile isn’t as big as before. Maybe I’ve embarrassed him…
Unnerved,
I take a step back and point to the scale. “Your turn.”
He
steps on and I come closer again. “Eighty-one and a half!” I exclaim,
contented. “You’ve gone up,” I tell him happily.
He
laughs and scratches his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s not much, but… it’s fine.”
With
the scale back in the trunk we go towards the track, following a series of
movements and steps that are, by now, familiar.
“How
much do you have to be to do the Iron Man?” I ask him with a new exuberance and
energy in my voice.
He
puts his hands in his pockets, while we start walking to warm ourselves up
before starting to run. “Huh? No, I don’t have to be a specific weight to do
the Iron…”
“Oh…
So then why do you want to gain weight?”
He
looks at me just for a second before turning towards the waiting road and
scratches his neck again. “It’s because… I’m too thin.”
“What?”
I ask him in a loud voice.
He
shrugs.
“But
it’s not true! You’re fine as you are!” I can’t believe that he feels less than
perfect...
“Not
by too much, only a couple of kilos,” he says shaking his head.
“Andrea
please…” I catch up and pull his sleeve to make him turn towards me. “You’re
perfect as you are! What are you saying?” I say, incredulous, doing my best to
convince him with my expression and tone.
He
gazes at me for a moment before saying, “What would you tell me if I told you
that you are perfect as you are too?”
I
take back my hand, immediately on the defensive. “I’d tell you that you were
absurd, because I am objectively overweight, while you are objectively
perfect.”
He
shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant… And anyway you haven’t ever seen me
without any clothes.”
And
thank God! I think almost desperately. Already as
it is it’s difficult to keep in mind that he’s practically Linda and out of my
league. If I had seen him without clothes it would be impossible.
That’s
not what I say. What I say is, “Andrea, according to the charts done by the crème
de la crème of science, I am overweight by at least twenty kilos, you,
still according to these charts, are perfect. What do you think a couple more
kilos will do?” I pause and then add, with a small note of disappointment in my
voice, “I didn’t think you were one of those people who gets obsessed with the
tiniest details…”
He
snaps around. “I’m not
gram… I’m a little afraid of this...
“Hi,”
I say hesitating, as soon as I reach him.
He
looks up smiling and quickly puts the pages away. “Today we’ll weigh
ourselves.”
I
sigh. “I know.”
He
puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid… You can tell just by
looking that you’ve lost weight!”
“Really?”
I think for a bit. “Well actually my pants are a little looser…”.
He
waves at me to join him by the trunk. “Don’t you ever weigh yourself at home?”
“No.
Only with you. What an honor, right?” I joke to lighten the tension.
Andrea
gets the scale, he places it in front of my feet as usual. He hasn’t shaved
today either and this slight beard makes him even more beautiful, if possible. I
sigh and get on.
Seventy-seven
and a half.
I
jerk my head up and see him, all smiles, looking at the display on the scale.
“I can’t believe it!” I almost shout. He lifts his head and laughs. He’s beside
me, as always, but this time, instead of bothering me, I’m happy about his
closeness. I turn on impulse and embrace him. “I’m so happy…” I whisper near
his ear.
He
stiffens for an instant, immobile, then I feel his arms encircle me, picking me
up off the scale and setting me down a second afterwards. I detach myself
immediately once my feet touch the ground. When I look at him I can’t seem to
apologize in any other way than by repeating, “I’m so happy!”
He
nods, but his smile isn’t as big as before. Maybe I’ve embarrassed him…
Unnerved,
I take a step back and point to the scale. “Your turn.”
He
steps on and I come closer again. “Eighty-one and a half!” I exclaim,
contented. “You’ve gone up,” I tell him happily.
He
laughs and scratches his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s not much, but… it’s fine.”
With
the scale back in the trunk we go towards the track, following a series of
movements and steps that are, by now, familiar.
“How
much do you have to be to do the Iron Man?” I ask him with a new exuberance and
energy in my voice.
He
puts his hands in his pockets, while we start walking to warm ourselves up
before starting to run. “Huh? No, I don’t have to be a specific weight to do
the Iron…”
“Oh…
So then why do you want to gain weight?”
He
looks at me just for a second before turning towards the waiting road and
scratches his neck again. “It’s because… I’m too thin.”
“What?”
I ask him in a loud voice.
He
shrugs.
“But
it’s not true! You’re fine as you are!” I can’t believe that he feels less than
perfect...
“Not
by too much, only a couple of kilos,” he says shaking his head.
“Andrea
please…” I catch up and pull his sleeve to make him turn towards me. “You’re
perfect as you are! What are you saying?” I say, incredulous, doing my best to
convince him with my expression and tone.
He
gazes at me for a moment before saying, “What would you tell me if I told you
that you are perfect as you are too?”
I
take back my hand, immediately on the defensive. “I’d tell you that you were
absurd, because I am objectively overweight, while you are objectively
perfect.”
He
shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant… And anyway you haven’t ever seen me
without any clothes.”
And
thank God! I think almost desperately. Already as
it is it’s difficult to keep in mind that he’s practically Linda and out of my
league. If I had seen him without clothes it would be impossible.
That’s
not what I say. What I say is, “Andrea, according to the charts done by the crème
de la crème of science, I am overweight by at least twenty kilos, you,
still according to these charts, are perfect. What do you think a couple more
kilos will do?” I pause and then add, with a small note of disappointment in my
voice, “I didn’t think you were one of those people who gets obsessed with the
tiniest details…”
He
snaps around. “I’m not
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