Dear Abs

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• February 6, 2022

Dear Abs,

I want you back. I miss you. Do you miss me? In those fleeting months we were one. God, did we look great together. I know I have to work a little harder to win you back. You have to really want it.

Was I happier person with abs? Overall, probably not. True happiness doesn’t stem from vanity. Additionally, some of the times I had abs was a result of being depressed and not eating enough calories. But feeling confident in a bikini? Priceless. Is there any uniform I prefer over a bikini on the beach? Fuck no. The beach is my church, Mother Ocean is a god.

Abs, I know you’re a young person thing. You belong to the young. And I’m not quite young anymore. Has our time together come to pass? I think not. I will not stop trying for you. I’ve fight in me. Do you know how much fight I have in me? Do you know? Quite a feisty one I am. Headstrong.

Oh, Abs, I know in reality you’re always there. Hiding. But I want you to be seen. I know it’s hard to share the limelight with my boobs. In truth, my boobs grow even bigger when I don’t have abs and I gain a few pounds. But I find the combo of you two to be fucking stellar.

Make no mistake, Abs. This isn’t just about how we look together (fucking hot). It’s also about how you make me feel. Like a top specimen. Strong. Healthy. More and more, my health is my prize. It’s the most important thing. Sure, you, Abs, are kind of extreme. However, I grew up a runt. An underdeveloped, scrawny ugly duckling. No more.

Still, this in-between time is finite. Gravity isn’t kind to us. Time is not our best friend. We will not be together forever, Abs. We are not soul mates. We are a passing thing. How often, I wonder, are passing things not the best? That it is expiration dates that give value. Like life itself.

So, Abs… shall we? Shall we dance again? Shall I ready myself for a summer of taking off my shirt?

All my love forever,

Lori