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I have been avoiding the scale for a few weeks because I don’t want to hear what she has to say. She’s the kind of friend who just blurts things out, no sugarcoating or contextualizing.
She doesn’t say, hey, here’s the deal, but it’s not that bad given the stress you’ve been under lately. Or you know, you haven’t had much time to hit the gym lately, but you’ll make it up in the next couple of weeks.
She just says, you gained X pounds.
Even when her news goes the other way, there’s no congratulatory tone. No promise of celebration. Just, you weigh x pounds less than you did the last time I saw you. Often there is a bit of smugness, however. A knowingess that, although you might weigh less today than you did yesterday, in a matter of weeks those pounds will be back.
Bitch.
Or is she just tired of having to give news that no one wants to hear? She doesn’t intrude on our lives. We beckon her into the limelight, ask for the truth and then shove her back into the darkness when the answers she gives don’t suit us. When times are tough we don’t confide in her. We leave her in the dust and clumps of stray hair, dreading the moment we’ll pull her back out because she knows that we won’t like that for which we’re asking.

So maybe she should learn the art of the white lie. Then she’d just be a lying beotch. Much better than a mean overly honest bitch. What did you say I weighed today? Must be my shoes and the heavy sweater I’m wearing? That must be it. Yes, I’ll try to come round and see you again tomorrow. Have you lost weight?

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