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Story Of The Week

The Conversation

by Kayla Ratcliffe

            As I sat waiting in a quaint restaurant for my blind date to appear, I was nervous.   I wondered if he was my type, or if in fact, I was his.  However, when he walked in the door a few moments later, I almost fainted.  His face was one I could never forget.  It was a handsome face with thick black eyebrows, high cheekbones and gorgeous eyes.  It was also a face I had hoped to never see again.

            I had first seen it five years before at a birthday party, which had been given in my honor.  He had come as the guest of a mutual friend, and I noticed him when he walked in the door.  He had an air of distinction, which separated him from every other guy in the room.

            However, the attraction turned out not to be a mutual.  I learned this after I mentioned to the mutual friend that he was someone I’d like to know.  Ten minutes later, after we were introduced, I accidentally overheard the conversation between them, as I stood undetected on the other side of a kitchen door.

            He told my friend bluntly that I wasn’t his type.  (I weighed almost 300 pounds at the time)  When my friend pointed out that I had a beautiful face, he stated emphatically that he found it difficult to even notice the face of a woman who was fat.  I cried myself to sleep that night and I never told anyone what I’d overheard.

            I thought it ironic we would end up five years later being introduced formally by two mutual friends on a blind date they had set up.  However, though I recognized him, he had not recognized me.  I was certain it was because I was now half the size of my former self.

            When he walked in and sat down across from me, he grinned broadly like a man who had just won a prize.  He was intense with interest as he complimented me profusely on how good I looked.

            I became angry all over again at the sight of him, but I was cool.  As I sat staring at him across the table, I kept trying to come up with a shocking way to remind him that we’d met before, but I couldn’t.  I wanted him to know of the pain he had unknowingly inflicted upon my heart on that snowy night five years before, but my tongue was tied.

Suddenly it dawned on me that he had hurt me unknowingly.  He had no way of knowing I had heard him.  As he sat staring at me admiringly, I realized that his words had succeeded in changing my life for the better.  I had joined the health club a week after the birthday party, and had since lost over 160 pounds.

            As my disdain began to dwindle, I forgave him there on the spot.  When he asked me to dance, I smiled at him for the first time that evening, and he responded by telling me I was beautiful.  The evening ended up being the beginning of an exciting romantic adventure.  We had been dating a year when he proposed.  I chose that night to finally tell him.  I told him about our meeting years before, but I never mentioned what I overheard him say.

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