I forced my thighs into the jeans, watching my boxers bunch up to the waist, and I felt embarrassed. She was not paying attention to this, thankfully. I looked at my legs in the mirror, with my hands on my hips, doing this specific position i stand in when i look at myself in the mirror. Serious progress made in the self-image dept. but still never fun to watch yourself squeeze into pants. I looked at her to get her attention. This works and I don’t know how.

-You have the numbers mixed up in your head. Seriously. I’m not gonna go to this thing dressed like fucking this!

-*Laughter*

Yeah, all she could do was laugh. The only pair of pants I had were these stupid 511’s. 32x30 511’s. I should have just looked it up while we were at the pants store.

She stopped laughing and said sorry but still kind of was laughing. And she said sorry again. But then explained that my other pants were covered in something like shit so I didn’t have a choice, now did I. And then she looked up from her phone and said

-They are definitely, well I’ve never seen you in pants that tight before.

She seemed enthused when she said this, like she liked them. She was laying on her stomach, elbows on the lip of the bed. Her nose stuck past the edge. It seemed to point right at me. She smiled bashfully and crinkled her nose.

I was also looking on my phone now, still standing in front of the mirror. I think was the 550’s she was talking about. 550’s are relaxed, says the search engine. The 511’s are skinny. How could she fuck up two numbers that somehow couldn’t be further from one another, 550 and 511. I told her this out loud like it made any kind of damn difference at this juncture, besides to prove a point. And she didn’t care, which is great, cause if so I feel like it could have ended poorly. As in a fight. And we had this wedding pre-party thing to go to at Kara’s house in a bit, dang it, and it means so much to her! Awwww!!!

Kara, we love Kara in this apartment. That’s how my girlfriend talked, who has no name, by the way. But yeah, she talked like that. We love Kara. We adore her around here!

We love that for them. We Stan this and that. I didn’t mind, because I’m responsible with people’s feelings now. I just want everyone to get along, and never fight. Remember what I said about going to Kara’s? I could never!!!

This new apartment we had, so nice, this apartment. We love this apartment (that is actually me using We like that). I really do love this apartment. We just moved in today. My clothes are still at the other place cause of, well, that’s just how moving can be, a real pain in the ass. And like I said my ass stank like shit from the other damn pants. So I got another pair, and I was in the thrift store with shit on my damn pants, like I said, time and time again. What the fuck!

When we were in there she (girlfriend) got so excited about shopping for me because she wanted to buy me jeans. No girl had ever wanted to do this for me and it just sounded romantic in like a cute little way. I liked that I didn’t feel embarrassed about the damn shit either. It was also romantic in the same cute little way.

My legs look like an upside down U wearing light grey skinny jeans. Jeans that only exist to a kid with a purple beanie and a scooter in 2010 I swear to god. Just like the crotch plus the amount of fabric and everything makes your legs look like the ARCH in St. Louis, MO. Grey jeans are pretty notorious to me, I can’t explain it. I just feel like I should be wearing a NEFF beanie and listening to I don’t know, Kid Cudi. Or jerk-dancing. It’s this really solid light grey that reminds me of a plastic gravestone at a Halloween haunted house or at a Halloween-themed store. It looks good in the context of a haunted house, but not here on my legs.

-I think you look really good in them.

She said it while looking at her phone but you know how it is. You can tell when somebody means it when they say somethin’. She meant it.

-I feel like in Superbad. When Jonah Hill’s in the mall shopping for jeans. And you’re Michael Cera, by proxy. You know at the end, and you, Michael Cera, goes, Way too tight. And Jonah Hill looks ridiculous. That’s how I feel.

She laughed. We could go as Superbad for Halloween and people would know pretty damn quick. We don’t look exactly like that, but still.

She kind of looked like Mike Cera.

I didn’t tell her she looked like Mike Cera.

She looked at my jeans again, and said

-I don’t know. I think your clothes’re maybe a little too big.

She said this reluctantly. I could tell she had thought about it before. Like when people start a sentence with Well… And their voice goes in a higher range.

-It’s just nice I like them looser. It feels better. I’m comftorable,

I deflected. I have made progress in self-image dept. but still embarrassed to talk about it.

-I know, it’s cool, but I just think, I don’t know. I think you’re a lot smaller than you think you are anymore.

I felt bashful about her mentioning my being smaller.

We never really discussed the last four months of me losing weight. I wore the same clothes as when I was big. From when I was considered by the BMI thing to be of the obese weight limit (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!).

And when I was at my most obese I was already wearing loose stuff, so I may look worse now, unless you consider a fatman in huge clothes funnier than a less fat guy in huge clothes.

-What do you mean?

,I said stupidly, knowing what the exact hell she meant.

-I just always think you look good. I don’t care how you look. I just think you look good.

-Thanks, you too.

I half-assed said it and half-assed meant it.

-Do you know what I mean?

-What do you mean?

-So, no.

-You like how I look. What do you mean by that? Beyond saying it.

-Like, I just don’t think it really matters what you do because I just love you. Does that make sense, I just don’t think I could care about anything you do, not like apathy but just I love you to the point where I just like whatever you do. You know?

I didn’t necessarily think so but also not sure. I still said yes anyways just on account of it seemed like the only safe answer. I think so. I said yeah. And then I said

-So you think I could leave the house like this?

-I just think you’re so beautiful.

-Like this.

-So beautiful.

She looked back at her phone.

She started reading a Quora prompt on her phone some weird thing she got emailed daily where it was like a message board where people ask some pretty weird shit.

-Does anybody out there when masturbating to porno try cumming same time as guy on computer. Wonder if anyone else do?

And then she sincerely said People are just so nice.