I’ve explained to my husband several times. “I’m gonna getchu, Sucka!”
I’ve been threatening to catch up to his weight for a while. Idle threats from a 456+ lb. thyroid cancer victim.
“I got time!” he supposed.
Well. I’m here, Sucka!
I am at 321.4 today and I’m breathing down your neck, Guy! HEEHEE!
I’m a very competitive person when it comes to my husband. I think it’s because I’m an Aries. Or just a jerk.
I don’t like competing with strangers. Just my husband. It’s because I admire him so much and I want him to admire me. So I have to beat him. At everything. I’m so sorry, honey!
He is my equal. My peer. The funniest sonuvagun I’ve ever met. I want him to think the same. This is my Aries persona: I must best him. Crush him. NO! JK! I just want to impress the man. He’s hard to impress. Aries is attracted to someone who is better than they are, but then they try to outdo their partner. I’m just so crazy. Egomaniac.
Every time I update him with my weight loss, I see, at the same time, excitement and terror! He knows how close I am. He squeals with delight and sheer hole-puckering fright when I tell him how much I’ve lost every day. I love his glee and equal gloom.
Thanks, Guy. For helping me. Caring for me after surgery. Watching me suffer with your hands tied. Listening. Wiping my cold-sweaty brow. Sharing CPAP duties. Taking me to the ER when my guts were open to the world. For just staying. For almost 19 years. I love you so much, dear. You’re my sun, moon, stars. I don’t deserve you, but I’m thankful for you.
AND I am, in fact, coming for you. Get ready!