C.J. is still young enough to remember her relationship with Flat Abs. I don’t think I was ever visited by, much less kissed by, Flatty, as some of my friends called her. I saw pictures of her. I read about her. I even started running (back in the day) in order to cross paths with her. Nothing worked. Maybe my insistence on eating brownies as I ran dissuaded her from joining me.
Great read, C.J.
We’ve grown apart over the years and lately, I’ve been thinking we were never meant to be together.
Do you remember when we first met? It was in that aerobics class in college. I was looking for an easy A, you showed up about a month later. I was impressed with your strength and… well, your flatness. And somehow you made me feel more pretty when we were together.
But looking back, I wonder if I was ever truly happy in our relationship. Frankly, you were high maintenance, Flat Abs. Did you know that?
Nothing I did was ever good enough for you. If I gave you 30 sit-ups, you wanted 50; when I gave you 50, you wanted 75. Sometimes I think you enjoyed seeing me in pain.
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