Cravings (eBook)

A (Mostly) Fictional Memoir

Juliet James (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
172 Seiten
Crooked Circle Press (Verlag)
979-8-9888904-3-0 (ISBN)

Infos

Tessa has been fat her whole life. Tessa has never been in love. At 23 years old, she can't help but feel like these two facts go hand in hand. In 'Cravings,' she embarks on a journey of self-exploration to find who she is, what she wants, and how to love the skin she's in.

Juliet James is a queer, bisexual, fat writer who is a current MFA candidate at Bay Path University. Born in New Jersey, she spent six years living in New York City, where she completed a BA in Anthropology at Hunter College. She currently resides with her wonderful husband Thomas and their adorable dog in the mountains of Colorado. She loves road trips with her husband, music, buying stationery, naming plants, and trying to keep them alive.

Textauszug

January, 1999

January 1st, 1999

The first day of the last year in a decade, and next year will be 2000. No more 19… how will I ever get used to that?

Nick called me today. I kind of chickened out on the whole asking him out thing, but he asked me to meet him, yet again. I gotta give him points for persistence. So I said yes. I’m not sure which of us was more surprised, but we’re meeting at TCBY for frozen yogurt tomorrow night. I’m nervous, but I guess it’s practice, right? And honestly, I have some major cravings, and I don’t mean for frozen yogurt.

XOXO,

Tessa

January 3rd, 1999

Okay so… date with Nick last night. Here’s how it went down.

I walked to TCBY, and he met me there. We had yogurt. White chocolate with Reese’s for me with a heaping side of Should I be eating in front of him? Or at all? Ugh. Sometimes the eating disorder voices are very loud. We talked for a bit, but between my nerves and the overall lack of any sort of impression he made, I can’t recall much in terms of specific dialogue.

He’s cute, but not in any distinctive way. Short, medium brown hair, hazel eyes, medium build. But… he’s kind of boring and thinks he’s really funny (he’s not). He was polite, though (he paid for my cone, though I offered to pay), and pleasant enough company, I suppose.

“You know, I’d really love to show you my place,” he said. I licked my cone and considered. I mean, that was a pretty weak line.

“Okay. Why not?” I finally answered.

I’m being bold, right?

He has a roommate who was wearing sweats and playing a video game. The apartment was cramped and kind of a dump. I mean, definitely not worthy of showing off. Which means that yeah, that line was as much a ploy as I imagined at the time.

We went to Nick’s room, which was surprisingly neat (something I find a bit off-putting since A: I am so not neat and B: I find clutter comfy and welcoming). He kissed me. It was an okay kiss. I’ve had better by far but also much worse. I’d call it generic, I suppose. Standard issue. Run of the mill. You get the drift.

We wound up in his bed. I wasn’t really sure where things were going, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it involved a lot of time focused on my boobs.

I wish I could say I was into it. Instead, I was just going through the motions and only because of my whole let’s be bold, Tessa thing. But I wasn’t impressed by any of his skills. We didn’t have sex, but he came. I didn’t even come close (see what I did there?).

No cravings even remotely satisfied.

He drove me home, and that was that. I doubt I’ll ever speak to him again. I certainly won’t be calling him, and he got what he wanted.

However, at least I got to learn that being bold doesn’t mean I hook up with someone I’m not into just because they’re willing, which is honestly a lesson I should’ve learned from past experiences but apparently didn’t.

Still, after tonight, I feel like it’s finally really clicked in my twisted brain… so I’ll write it off as my first attempt at being bold, and a successful one, even if I didn’t get to have any orgasms.

Here’s hoping for a much hotter experience the next time I hook up with someone.

XOXO,

Tessa

January 3rd, 1999

Dear Book,

I know this makes two entries in one day, but I just had to because OH MY GOD Pizza Guy called. Turns out his name is Kevin.

It was 9 pm, and I was sitting on my bed listening to Sarah McLachlan when the phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was a Cranford number, so I answered.

“Hey, is this Tessa?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

“Yeah. Who is this?”

“Hi, this is Kevin. Oh, I’m the Domino’s delivery guy. You slipped me your number last week.”

Inside, I squealed… but I kept my cool somehow.

“Oh, hey Kevin! Nice to put a name to the face!” Ugh. Did I really say that? How fucking pathetic can you get?

“I hope you don’t mind me calling this late.”

I told him it was fine. The truth is, I’m a total night owl, so it was still pretty early for me.

“So, I wondered if you wanted to meet up for coffee or something one night,” he says.

UHM YEAH. Hell yeah. Fuck yeah!

“That would be cool,” I said.

And then, the bombshell.

“I assume you know I’m married. I mean, I figured you saw the ring.”

Fuck me.

Yeah, I saw the ring. It looked nothing like a wedding ring. It’s thick and clunky and kind of looks like a class ring or what I’ve always imagined people mean when they say a signet ring. I thought maybe it was a family crest.

I HIT ON A MARRIED GUY, and HE CALLED ME.

Oy vey.

“Oh,” I said. “Actually I noticed the ring, but I didn’t realize it was a wedding ring.”

“Yeah, well, my wife and I are having some problems right now.”

Gee, you think? Even if she doesn’t know it, you’re clearly having “problems” if you’re married and calling the chick who slipped you her number with your delivery tip.

“Oh. I see,” I said. I felt kind of dumbfounded. I finally get up the nerve to hit on a guy for the first time since being rejected by the first guy I ever asked out when I was 12 (he later dated one of my best friends), and he’s fucking married. Goddamn it.

“So, what do you think? Would you like to meet up?”

I told him I needed to think it over. I mean, after all, I am being bold, right? Wasn’t that the goal?

But does being bold mean sleeping with another woman’s husband?

Do I want to be that woman? The other woman?

I’d be lying if said there isn’t a little voice whispering, do it… because there’s something so elicit about it that, well, it sorta turns me on. Okay, maybe more than sort of. It just makes it seem so dangerous, and that apparently works for me. Who knew? But can I live with myself if I cross that line? That isn’t something I can undo when I wake up and realize I may have just ended a marriage or at least contributed to one ending.

That’s not just something you shrug off the way you do when some stupid guy you’re not really into makes out with you badly, and yet, for some idiotic reason, you still let him jerk off on your tits, ya know?

I have to sleep on this one.

More soon,

Tessa

January 5th, 1999

Well, Dear Book… I went out with Kevin tonight.

We met up at the Barnes & Noble in Clark, near where I work, since it has a Starbucks inside. I’m sure the fact that it’s a few towns over from where he lives helped, too.

Since I was at work all day, I had to change in the bathroom after. I wasn’t going in my dirty, toddler-stained work “uniform,” which consists of khaki knit pants and a polo shirt with the center’s logo. I had on a long skirt, my black suede platform sneakers, and a dark-red sweater with a scoop neck that showed off some of my ample cleavage, which is one of the few things I’ve ever been comfortable showing off about my body. It’s a look that is comfortable and casual but also trendy and cute, which I’d like to pretend I don’t care about, but when you’re fat with huge feet, finding clothes and shoes that are even remotely trendy and cute is such a nightmare that once in a while it’s just nice to feel like you’ve nailed it. I put on some quick makeup, but I didn’t have time for much more than a bit of blush, a swipe of dark-red lipstick, and mascara.

Still, I felt pretty good... until I walked by a window that reflected my full body back to me. Then I felt fat, ugly, and shitty. Ugh.

I reminded myself I was meeting up with a guy who chose to call me and that he did so knowing full well that I love buffalo wings with extra bleu cheese and bacon-cheeseburger pizza, since he’s been delivering it to me for going on a year.

Then I heard my conscience whisper, yes and he’s fucking married.

Kevin showed up, and my first thought was “Wow, he looks good.” He’s probably about 5’10” and has a medium build. His floppy, dark brown hair is always slightly messy, which I find endearing. He was wearing jeans and a dark-blue sweater that made his eyes an almost midnight blue. I had that fluttery feeling I get whenever I’m attracted to someone and thought to myself, I’m in big trouble here.

We sat down. He got us drinks (white chocolate mochas - my favorite).

“So,” I began a little tentatively before I decided to just lay it all out there, “Why did you call me if you’re, well… married.”

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Yeah, sure you haven’t, whispered my conscience.

“Well, that makes two of us,” I replied. “I really did not know you were married. I’d never have slipped you my number if I’d realized. Your, uh, ring doesn’t look like a wedding band,” I pointed out, maybe a little defensively.

He glanced down at his ring. I took a better look at it and felt vindicated. No one would automatically assume it was a wedding ring. It...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 19.5.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-9888904-3-0 / 9798988890430