All I see is fat.
A sagging bulge under my chin, love handles, and a rounded belly. Turning to the side, I take in the lumps at my bra line, big ass, and thick thighs. There’s fat everywhere. I’ve always had big hips and a generous backside, but what happened to my size eight body?
I push and prod, adjusting my stance, trying to minimize the problem areas, but no matter how I stand, how I hold myself, the lumps and bulges still show through, and the damn tears keep falling.
Maybe Richard’s question holds merit. Why would Joshua want to talk to someone like me?
Stepping away from the mirror, I snag my electronic cigarette off of my desk and a book off the shelf, and then I curl up in my big bowl chair and I wrap myself in a blanket. I don’t actually open the book, just hold it, seeking comfort from the feel of the pages within my hands.
Hours or minutes or seconds. I don’t know how long it takes before the tears finally stop, but the moment they do exhaustion hits, and sleep pulls me away.
And then, I’m roused awake.
My office is dark, the house, silent, and my mouth is so dry it feels like sandpaper scratching down my throat each time I swallow. Sliding out of my chair, I slip out of my office and pad down the stairs. As I head for the kitchen, I notice that Richard’s shoes are gone from the front door and his wallet and keys are missing from the counter.
I pour myself a glass of water, before making my way through the house and glancing out the front window, confirming that his car is in fact gone.
I smile. He’s not here anymore.
I wander between rooms for a bit, making sure that all his things are gone, that there’s no chance he’ll be showing back up in an hour or two, before I make my way to my bedroom. I wrap myself up in the blankets, and cuddle up to the pillows, closing my eyes.
When I drift off again, I sleep deeply.
2
Letters
It’s been nearly two weeks since I sent the letter to Joshua, and I’m starting to think he’s not going to write me back, but that doesn’t stop me from getting into my car and going to the post office every day at three-thirty on the dot to check my post box.
Heading right into the post office, I bypass the counter, going straight for my box. As soon as I open it, instant disappointment settles over me.
It’s empty again.
Closing the door, I lock it up and turn to leave when Grace calls out, “Hold on a second, Vickie. There’s still more here. I haven’t had a chance to sort through it all.”
Those words stall me and my stomach does a little flip-flop. I smile at her. “Oh, sure, thanks.”
Walking over to the counter, I lean against it, watching as she quickly flips through the stack of mail. She’s a sweet lady, maybe ten years my senior, with long black hair and a bubbly voice. It takes a few minutes before she turns to me, a letter in her hand.
“Here you go,” she says, smiling sweetly, setting the letter down on the counter. “I hope it’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”
My eyes widen as I stare at the large red stamp on the front of the envelope. This letter has been mailed from the Pennsylvania Prison System.
Oh my God. He wrote back.
I’m stunned. For a moment, all I can do is stare at the envelope, reading the stamp once, twice, three times, before glancing back at Grace, my hands shaking ever so slightly, itching to snatch it up, as excitement sparks throughout my entire body. She’s eyeing me curiously, like she’s hoping that maybe this really is the letter I’ve been waiting for.
I grin at her, grabbing the letter to leave. “It is. Thanks so much for checking for me.”
“No worries, hon,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you.” I stick the letter into my purse, feeling slightly dazed as I make my way out to my car. When I reach my house, I’m itching to tear it open. I head straight to my office and sit down at my desk, carefully opening it.
July 17, 2015
Hey Victoria,
What’s good? I’m just chilling, listening to old school jams. I just got your letter this morning, and I’m really excited to get to know you better.
So you’re a romance author. That’s cool. I’m a hopeless romantic. I’d like to read your newest book if you want to send me a copy. No pressure. If you don’t want to, I’ll understand. I’ve never met an author before. What made you decide to write to someone like me? I’m really excited that you did.
You said that you’re fiercely loyal. Great quality to have. I’m very loyal, too. Your word is all you have in life.
Good to know family is important to you. Family is everything to me. I’m the youngest of five kids. Grew up in Pennsylvania. I’m really close with my family. Do you have any siblings?
Could you send me a picture of you so I know who I’m talking to?
I’m really excited to get to know you better, so tell me a little bit more about yourself. Here are some questions for us to get to know each other better.
What is your sexiest feature?
What are three qualities that are important to you in the man you’re dating?
What’s your favorite color?
Are you dating anyone now?
Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what and where?
When’s your birthday?
Describe your perfect first date.
If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?
Do you prefer sunrise or sunset?
What’s one thing a person can do to make you fall in love with them?
Well, I’m going to cut this off here. Thank you for taking the time to write me. I hope you have a great week and I hope to hear back from you soon.
Your friend,
Joshua
P.S. I’m an open book so feel free to ask me anything.
I fold the letter carefully, setting it down on my desk and staring at it for a beat. He wants to get to know me. Me. And he wants a picture.
Shit.
My heart is pumping hard in my chest as I snag up my phone and quickly snap a few tester photos. I’ve never been much of a selfie taker, and it turns out it really isn’t as easy as it looks.
Oh my God, do I have three chins?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
These pictures look … awful. No, scratch that. They’re way worse than awful.
Turning to my computer, I pull up Google, quickly searching ‘How to take a flattering selfie’, and then I scan through the results, soaking up every tip and trick the internet has to offer me.
Two hours later, my hair is done, so is my makeup, and I’m back in my office. The curtains are open (supposedly natural light helps with the whole selfie taking thing) and I start taking pictures.
I take at least a hundred photos before I manage to get one that I kind of like. I consider editing and altering it for about half a second, but then decide not to. What’s the point of having a pen-pal if I can’t be one-hundred percent real with him?
So I print off the picture, open a Word document, and start typing …
July 24, 2015
Hey Joshua,
How are you? It’s good to hear from you. I’ve enclosed a picture of myself as requested. I hope you like it. *smiles*
Okay, to answer your question on why I decided to write to someone like you … The truth is, it happened by accident. I was researching a book and stumbled upon the pen-pal site. Then I found your profile, and after a lot of research on you, I thought I’d take the chance and write you a letter.
You also asked if I’m dating anyone and I’m going to take a shot at explaining that, so bear with me because it’s complicated. The simple answer is yes, I am. Actually, I’ve been married for a little over two years now and I still live with my husband, but it’s been over for some time now. If I’m being honest with myself, it was over before we said ‘I Do’, but I guess we all make mistakes.
He’s quite a bit older than me, fourteen years to be exact. He’s a successful t
ech consultant and when we met, I was a waitress. He used to come in and sit in my section whenever he was in town and flirt with me. I don’t know if it was the expensive suits or his confidence or perhaps it was that he was handsome, but we started dating, and then two years ago, we got married.
Anyway, I’ve told him it’s over, that I don’t love him anymore, but he asked me to stay. He wants to try to work things out, and I guess I feel like I owe him that, but the thing is, there’s just nothing left to work out. I just don’t love him anymore. Actually, I’m not sure if I ever did.
I hope you don’t think I’m a horrible person now. Sometimes I feel like I am, but the thing is, I really don’t think he loves me either. I think he’s just scared of change and what we have is comfortable for him.
Does that make sense? I hope so.
I’d be happy to send you one of my books. I’ll package one up and send it out at the same time as this letter, so keep an eye out for it. I hope it gets to you okay.
Okay, I’m going to try to answer all of your get-to-know-you questions now. *smiles*
What is your sexiest feature? Hummm … Well, I’ve been told I have bedroom eyes, so I think I’ll go with that.
What’s your favorite color? Purple!
What are three qualities that are important to you in the man you’re dating? Easy. Honesty, nonjudgmental, and understanding.
Do you have any tattoos? If yes, what and where? I have three tattoos. One is a heart shaped key with a pink ribbon that says ‘follow your heart’ along the length of the key. That one is on my ribs along my right side. I have a hummingbird at the nape of my neck, and I also have an apple blossom tattoo stemming up from the center of my breast and curving along the left side of my collarbone. What about you? I noticed you had some tattoos in your picture. Tell me about them.
When’s your birthday? It’s February 19, 1991.
Describe your perfect first date. Let’s see … my perfect first date would be something simple, like a picnic on the beach.
If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? Oh, this one’s easy. I’d be in Cuba. I love it there. They have some of the best beaches in the world and the people are so nice.
Do you prefer sunrise or sunset? Both. I can’t pick just one. *smiles*
What’s one thing a person can do to make you fall in love with them? Wow, this one is really hard. I’m not sure if there is any one thing someone could do to make me fall in love with them. There’s either a spark or there’s not, and if it’s not there, well, it’s just not there. Does that make sense? I hope so.
Okay, I’m pretty sure I answered all your questions. Your turn … I’m looking forward to reading all of your answers.
Well, I guess I better get back to work. Until next time …
Hugs,
Victoria
It’s easier to mail the letter this time. I barely hesitate as I stick it in the envelope along with the picture and head back to the post office. Actually, I’m almost … excited. Excited to get to know this man. I hope he writes back again.
Days pass.
Long, drawn out days of nothing.
I spend most of my time writing, although I also agonize a fair bit. What if Richard is right? What if Joshua saw my picture and decided I wasn’t worth talking to? What if I am too curvy and he doesn’t want to be friends with someone like me?
It’s crazy, I know. I’m crazy. But this waiting … It’s driving me insane.
When the next letter finally arrives, I’m buzzing with nerves and excitement.
August 8, 2015
Hey beautiful,
What’s good? I’m just chilling. Just got back from REC. Worked on biceps and triceps today. I got your letter and picture. You’re beautiful, and those eyes, I could stare into them forever. And it looks like you have some nice big breasts, too.
I like how you put your smiles in the last letter. It’s so fucking cute.
What are you thinking right now? I like to ask this question. It gives me a better idea of who you are and what you’re about.
Have you ever listened to that Nicki Minaj song ‘Hey Mama’? I’m listening to it right now. I think it’s so fucking sexy. It’s all about a woman taking care of her man. Very sexy. Very good song. You should listen to it.
I’m really excited to get to know you. I loved all your answers. Feel free to ask me anything you want. I’m an open book.
My sexiest feature is my smile, I think. I’m told I have a really great smile. I have five tattoos, two devils, one covering my chest and one on my left forearm. I got them because my family used to call me a devil child when I was a kid. I also have a tribal tattoo on my right bicep. I hate that one, but it’s so big there’s nothing I can do about it. It was one of my first. I’ve got two dragons coming together on my right forearm; that one means ‘brother’. Me and another guy from the club got it together when I joined. And the last one is the one-eight-seven on my left ribs with my life story within the numbers.
I like that you have tattoos. So sexy on women.
Thank you for being so honest with me about your marriage. Honesty is really important to me, and I’m glad you told me the truth. I’m not dating anyone right now. I just broke up with this psycho bitch. She was a total head case, threatening me and my family.
Three qualities that are important to me in someone I’m dating would be honesty, loyalty, and caring, and one thing a person could do to make me fall in love with them would be to love me for me and not try to change me. Every woman I’ve ever dated has tried to change me. I fucking hate it. I’m open and very blunt so those bitches all knew who I was when we hooked up. I’m not going to change who I am for anyone. Words are the way to my heart.
My perfect first date would be a long ride on my motorcycle, then a nice dinner on the beach. I love the beach. The water calms me.
I’m a sunset kind of man, my favorite color is blue, and if I could be anywhere in the world right now, I’d be with my family. I miss them a lot and feel real bad for what I’ve put them through.
I hope you don’t mind, but I have this question book I use when I write letters. It has thousands of questions to ask to get to know people better. Most of them are questions that we wouldn’t normally think to ask. If you don’t want me to use the book, just let me know. I just want to be one-hundred percent honest with you.
So tell me something new about yourself. Something new about me would be that I trained in martial arts since I was young. I really enjoyed it, and was really good. I can’t wait to start again when I hit the streets.
Here are some more questions for you.
What gifts from your man mean the most to you?
What is the best thing about starting a new relationship?
What about love makes you afraid?
What do you see from your bedroom window?
Do you wear makeup all the time or only sometimes?
Have you had a recurring dream throughout your life?
What are your turn-ons and turn-offs?
Do you believe soul mates meet by accident or is it destiny?
Well, my beautiful girl, I’ve got to go. I hope you have an amazing week. I can’t wait until your next letter.
Your friend,
Joshua
P.S. I made you something and you should have it soon. Hope you like it.
I’m smiling so big when I put the letter down that my cheeks hurt. He thinks I’m beautiful.
Me.
Beautiful.
And he made me something.
Surprised laughter escapes me. I should probably be worried about the more than friendly tone of the letter, but somehow I feel special and a little lighter than I have in years.
I feel … giddy. Giddy and curious.
Who is this man?
3
Beads, Bracelets, and Dicks
“You’ve got two today, hon.”
I smile widely at Grace’s confirmation, feeling a blush o
vertaking my face as I rush over to my post box. My heart’s racing as I unlock it and spot two letters, both from Joshua.
Quickly, I retrieve my mail and wave a quick goodbye to Grace as I head outside, nearly jogging to my car. I barely have the car door shut before I tear into the first one, pulling out a piece of folded tissue paper that’s held closed with a sticker that reads, Packaged with Love.
My grin widens, and my cheeks begin to sting as something that feels a hell of a lot like butterflies begin to dance in my belly. But it can’t be butterflies, right? And my heart is only thumping harder, pumping and skipping, because I jogged to my car, right?
It’s not excitement.
It can’t be nerves.
Shit. Who am I kidding? I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m … I’m … floating, hovering on a wave and I’m pretty sure I’d be happy if it never crashes into the shoreline, letting me ride it forever.
Carefully, I peel the sticker off, unwrapping the paper and finding a bracelet within.
The bracelet is beautiful, handmade with these tiny purple beads. And oh my God, my name is woven along the front in white with two hearts, one on each side.
I don’t know how to react as I sit here in my car, my eyes stinging slightly as they start to water and those butterflies in my belly take flight, flapping and fluttering, filling my entire body.
It’s … perfect.
I’ve never had a man hand make jewelry for me before.
I can’t believe Joshua actually made it.
When he wrote that he had taken up beadwork in his profile, I’d never truly believed it. It’s kind of hard to picture this big, scary looking man working with tiny beads, but my God, it’s amazing.
Abso-freakin’-lutely perfect.
I pick it up and set the envelope and tissue paper aside. Wrapping it around my wrist, it’s easy for me to fasten it in place. It looks perfect there, better than perfect. I don’t think I’ll ever take it off.