Abort Mission #2
I had invested so much time in the relationship that it did hurt to leave, but I was done letting someone walk all over me while I was busting my ass to better myself.
It had also felt like my anxiety was at an all-time high, due to everything combined; I thought maybe a furry companion would be a good solution.
The adoption center said she was a Golden Retriever that someone had surrendered because they couldn’t handle the work, so not only does she have lots of energy, but she has the attitude of a sassy teenager, too.
However, I wouldn’t change a single thing.
She saved me at such a low point and keeps me laughing all the time with how big a derp she is.
I let her back in, made sure she had plenty of food and water, and then made my way back to my bedroom so I could get changed for the gym and Facetimed Emma. I pulled her contact up and hit call while I propped the phone up so I could change.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite bitch!” Emma practically yelled when her face filled the screen.
A goofy grin spread across mine as I rolled my eyes at her and shot back, “I’m the only bitch you know; we’ve been through this.”
“Yeah, that’s true, but you’re still my favorite one, and the most beautiful one!”
“I’m so done with you, Em. I wanted to call to see if you still wanted to go to the gym tonight. Didn’t know if the plan had changed from when we talked earlier.” I thumbed through my workout gear as I listened to her.
“Girl, you know I am. I love getting to lift with you; I always have a blast. What are you gonna wear?” She rolled off her couch, where she was lying, and made her way to her bedroom.
“That’s what I’m looking at now; I had a shitty day, so I’m feeling an all-black gym fit is in order, complete with Vans. Whatcha think?”
“I’m so here for it, it’s like we’re back in high school all over again.” Emma and I chatted while I got ready and packed my gym bag. Once I was in the car, I hopped off the phone and headed to her house to pick her up and head to the gym.
Our gym wasn’t anything special, but it sat in front of some of the surrounding mountains in our town of Maplewood, Tennessee.
The view was gorgeous and one of my favorite parts—especially around this time of year, since we were nearing the end of summer and about to head into fall.
There was nothing better than being surrounded by so many beautiful colors when the leaves changed.
The town had definitely grown in recent years, but parts of it still had that small-town feel that I craved.
Another thing about the gym I loved was that it also had platforms for squatting and deadlifting, and some more free weights too. If there was one thing I truly enjoyed, it was lifting. Sometimes I still thought it was crazy how I turned into a bit of a gym rat.
I was a plus-size girl, so it took me a long time to find something I truly clicked with. Not to mention getting over my gym anxiety. It can be hard to get out there when your brain tells you everyone was looking at you and mocking you. From what you wore to the exercises you did.
Sometimes that anxiety still tries to creep in, too.
I had spent most of my life trying to shrink myself, to not be too loud or take up too much space.
Going to therapy helped me start to overcome those feelings, but it was still tough at times.
Growing up in a time where there was fad diet after fad diet and a stream of bullies, it took a lot to change the way I perceived myself and my body.
Now, I tried to keep the mindset that if I’m too much for someone, then they can leave and go find less.
That I deserved to be where I was and to take up space.
We decided to start with some stretching before we moved on to squats.
This was a deload week for us, because next week we wanted to try to go up in the weight we were lifting.
My body must have been exhausted, because even though this was a lower weight that normally move easily, it felt so heavy this evening.
I knew days like this happened, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
I pushed through, and then we moved on to benching.
While I was loading my side of the bar, Emma walked over next to me and not so nonchalantly whispered in my ear.
“Look at that guy who just walked in. All-black outfit, arm and leg muscles for days.” I tried to subtly look at the spot she pointed out, and, holy cow, was she right.
I tried not to stare because I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me, but it was hard.
He looked to be maybe around my age or a couple of years older; he had beautiful dark brown hair that curled in every direction, and the muscles stacked on his arms and legs were obscene.
He was wearing black shorts that hugged his legs, and a black shirt cut into a longer crop top so it sat above his waistband.
It should be criminal how good he looked.
Even though he was incredibly muscular, he still had that “dad bod” look about him, and I was not complaining one bit. I was trying to be subtle while my eyes roamed over him, and well, subtly has never been my strong suit. He looked up from his phone, and we locked eyes with one another.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Abort mission! Abort mission!” I hissed to Emma as we bolted into a flurry of movement, trying not to trip over each other or the equipment while pretending we weren’t ogling the man who just walked in.
Even though it was after five p.m., she and I shared an energy drink to make it through the workout. We took turns bench pressing, and the entire time it felt as if eyes were on me. As if someone was tracking my every movement, but anytime I looked around, no one was staring.
I shook the feeling off because it was more than likely Emma watching since we were taking turns spotting. I finished up and took a sip of water when Emma leaned over and whispered to me.
“The entire time you did your set, Mr. Muscles over there was staring at you.” She snatched the water from my hand and waggled her eyebrows at me. This woman, I swear.
“Em, sweetie, you’re crazy. He was probably looking at you.
You kinda look like a fairy from a Barbie movie in all the pink you have on today,” I waved my hand up and down her body to emphasize my point.
It wasn’t that I didn’t think it was possible he could be looking at me, but next to someone like Emma, who was five-foot-two, had long brown hair, the perfect hourglass shape, and stunning blue eyes, most men didn’t make it to me.
I couldn't blame them either. She was my best friend, but even I had to admit she was a stunner.
I stood a little taller than your average girl at five feet nine inches, and I also had shorter black hair.
Top that with being plus size but not in the “had a big ass and hips way,” but in the “had really nice boobs and a little more in the lower tummy area” way.
There was nothing wrong with how I looked, and I knew that.
I was still beautiful in my own way, but I still struggled with that acceptance at times.
Emma scoffed and shook her head. “Allie, no, we both know I’m freaky good at reading people, and I’m sensing I’m not his type.
His eyes were on you, babe.” I chanced a glance up to where he was, and our eyes caught again, for a moment, it was as if I was struck by lightning.
Like the air was pure static. I didn’t know who this man was, but boy, did I wanna find out.