Weight

Borrowed from here.

"You've gained weight." 

I don't even know how to respond to that sentence. Is it a statement? It's obvious that I've gained some weight, but why state something that is a fact, something I'm acutely aware of because lately my clothes are all either tight or snug or simply unwearable. 

Is it an insult?

Or you were simply don't know what to say to someone you haven't talked to for five years. 

I look straight into those eyes and he doesn't turn away. 

"Yes, I have." Might as well also said the obvious. 

"Is it because you are happy or unhappy?" 

It's so cliche to the point I want to punch someone in the face. 

"Neither. I have brain tumor that destroyed some part of the hypothalamus. Ergo, I can't stop eating."

He looks at me with his head tilted to the side, trying to read my expression. 

"You're obviously kidding."

I still look at his eyes. They're brown. That shade of brown when you brew black tea in under two minutes.

"Was I, really? What do you think?" 

He finally turns away, walking away from me without saying another word. 


I can still feel the weight of his words on me, on my burning tongue. 

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