It was easy, somehow, to get over Toby. I just kinda moved on. At times I missed him, but never enough to get really sad over him. I guess hearing him call me "bigger" and laugh at the thought of dating me just broke me enough to be over him.
Of course I had other distractions, who were much nicer to me and didn't seem to care about my size. That helped.
Toby and Stacy got engaged. I found out when I was working a booth at a bridal show. I saw Stacy out of the corner of my eye. She spotted me, too, and saw an opportunity. She knew exactly who I was, and how in awe of Toby I used to be. I greeted her when she approached my booth.
"Did you hear Toby and I are engaged?" She cackled. She was (is) such a bitch. "Yeah, we're doing a destination wedding in Hawaii!"
"That's great!" I said. It didn't hurt me nearly as bad as I thought it would. I guess he really did just break me. But I knew, that minute, that he would never marry her. A destination wedding in Hawaii? That is so not Toby's taste. I wasn't even ever his girlfriend, but I knew that much about him.
Months went by. Then years. He was a past thought, a remember when (as in "remember when I was obsessed with Toby? Remember when Toby held me captive at a bar cause he thought I was into another guy?") Then one random night, I was in Washington with my aunt watching football and his team was playing. I sent him a facebook message (for some reason we were friends) just to say hi. He answered back within five seconds. We went back and forth a bit that night. Then, a few days later, while I was waiting to board my flight, I got a text from his number (cause it was embedded into my brain, so I knew it was him). He called me that night after I made it home.
Get ready. That night, when he called, it wasn't to catch up, or to apologize for treating my heart like monkey meat. It was to tell me that the pictures I posted while I was in Washington were not flattering. But, since I was not the meek, desperate, infatuated girl I once was, I fired back at him.
"Are you kidding me? We haven't spoke in years, and the first thing you do is tell me that I'm fat in my pictures? I have lost 58 pounds, Toby, and I'm working really hard at it!"
That sparked his interest. He asked a billion questions about my weight loss and how much more I wanted to lose. He wanted to know my diet and exercise schedule. I asked a billion questions about his ex-fiance (called it) and the wedding that never happened. He had nothing to say about that.
He called or texted daily after that. He wanted to hang out. I didn't. I just kept coming up with excuses until finally I agreed to hang out with him on New Years Eve.
He pulled out all the stops. Fancy meal, champagne, dancing and pretty much begging me to stay over. I did not. We hung out a few more times, and he was saying all the right things. He was being romantic; making food especially for me, watching movies/television he knew I wanted to watch. He quit his bad habits, telling me I was part of the reason he was giving up his vices. He told me his mom thought I was pretty, which meant he was showing pictures of me to his family. He wanted me to move closer to him. (I feel it important to mention at this point that there was no hanky panky happening AT ALL). He started asking me on real dates, and I couldn't help but wonder: why wasn't he like this years ago? If he had been this wonderful years ago, we would be married right now.
Duh, Jen, you know why: because you used to be FAT. He will only give you the time of day now because you're not plus size, because you can run a mile without stopping, and you don't need five hooks on your bra. That's when I realized every compliment was laced with a put down. "It's awesome you're getting your masters degree. But what are you really going to do with it?" "Yeah, it's great you keep losing weight. But are you going to get skin removal surgery? A tummytuck? A boob job? You're going to need a lift of some sort."
I realized nothing had changed with him, but I was different. I was a girl who had been laid off twice, spent ten weeks unemployed, lost a baby, was almost done with my degree, lost a ton of weight and was pretty much an all around bad ass. I was not going to stand for the bullshit anymore. Then I went in for my tumor removal surgery, and he did not call or text for almost a month. It's like I was good enough when I was just the meek girl who followed him around, but when I was strong and had my own issues to deal with, he couldn't be bothered with it.
Finally he did text. And I let him have it. I told him I didn't want to date him, ever. I was hurt at his lack of compassion with my major surgery. He fired back with the longest text I have ever received, telling me how selfish I am, and self centered, and what a bad friend/person I am.
I responded with a simple "ok". I couldn't be bothered with a guy who laughed at the thought of dating me at my biggest, only showed interest when I lost some pounds, and somehow managed to turn this whole thing around so that I was the bad guy.
And that is the end of the story. (No, seriously, it's the end. No repeats.)