chasing dreams I

Acceptance is a rarity in our circles. The world we inhabit is replete with discrimination both from those whose myopic detachment from the experience provide the most superficial of comprehension, and from our co-inhabitants whose egotistically-driven perspective only distinguishes between the do-able and the do-yourself. We trudge tip-toeing that we don’t ever cross paths with those whose opinions might disagree with our own. Or that we do cross paths with those whose attraction we seek, and compatibility willing, be able to pursue certain possibilities.

My reclusion, albeit social retardation, for the past few years or so, has provided me with a distorted sense of reality, and with a lack of self-awareness has left me enveloped in layers of adipose insecurities, lacking any semblance whatsoever from my previous physiology. Until recently, I argued this as an excuse to continue my refusal of social situations, and the easiest defense against a possible return to my wanton ways. Being physically displeasing is an effective deterrent from a possible spiral to promiscuity. But alas, I may have overdone it, as my somnolent survival have shown that despite the refusal to partake in the bacchanalian anarchy of my old ways, the same longing for affection and acceptance still throb beneath my extra luggage of introversions. But with a weight gain that threatens my very health, I can only daydream how it would be to feel what was so easily disregarded when I had the body, and the audacity, to think otherwise.

Recently I was introduced to a subcategory that appealed primarily because of the possibility it asserted. Thinking that maybe I had better chances of finding someone like-minded or agreeable if only I ended my denial and instead embraced my semi-newfound obesity. This is the subcategory of chubs and chasers. For the uninitiated, like me, a chaser is someone who by definition is attracted to those in the heavier side; of course this in itself has certain restrictions and subcategories, and thus chases after them. I will not delve into the intricacies and power-play that ensue in this sort of minority, as I myself am an unwilling neophyte in its rules, nor would I feign to know more than what I have lead you to believe.

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About a month ago I chanced upon a local group that caters specifically to this sort of subcategory. Being the proverbial inquisitive cat that I am, I decided to try my hand in reaching out to them. Of course not knowing anyone from the clan seemed like a big disadvantage specially that they have apparently been around for quite some time now. Yet despite this, I gambled on the possibility that these guys would be receptive on a shared-pain perspective. As often people on the heavier side do experience a certain level of social ostracism, I figured what a breath of fresh air it would be to find people of a similar wavelength or a congruent mindset.

How gravely mistaken was I.

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Arriving at a bar somewhere up north, in the area I used to refer to as my evening abode. I walked in, in a place replete with vibrant sexual tension, and inebriated souls wondering about conquests-in-waiting and wandering its cobblestone streets. Optimistic that the night will transgress in the oblivious amusement I yearn for and the connection I seek.

Something felt wrong. Eyes pry my very skin like fresh meat ready for the picking. Finding a solitary corner away from the bar counter, I conceded to regain as much composure as I can feign. Waiting for my eyes to adjust in the blinding darkness and the deafening beat I have missed for years, I sat with my bottle of San Mig Light thinking, should I be here?

My breath was heavy, my hands sweating in all its adipose glory. The decision of wearing an all-black ensemble that night afforded a certain level of stealth. But it wasn’t enough. I searched furtively, seeking a familiar face - the guy who invited me. As moments pass, a looming possibility crawled into my consciousness, a fear so consuming I had to deny it. Maybe he didn’t show up. And this is a trap I don’t intend to fall prey to, yet have unwillingly did.