Just the other day, Lisa looked at me while I was getting my work clothes on.
“You look anorexic,” she said.
She also had some other things to say such as, “You look like your wearing your daddy’s clothes” and “I’m not used to Skinny Cliff.”
Over the past few days, I’ve heard a couple of references to “Skinny Cliff.” A couple of days ago, me and some co-workers were talking about a 3-on-3 basketball tournament at work. A friend joked that I was more desirable as a player when I was “Big Cliff” because I could be put in the middle and shove people around. Now, he said, he’d be worried they’d shove me around.
The only problem is I still don’t see “Skinny Cliff” in the mirror. I just see a thinner version of Big Cliff most of the time. I had this happen one time before. I went to basic training at 195, I came out at 167. I hadn’t realized how much weight I had lost, mainly because they don’t provide scales. I didn’t realize I had lost that much weight until the end when I went into supply, got some new BDU pants and ended up tearing the cinches on the sides because I couldn’t cinch them up enough and had to get a size smaller pants.
When I do look in the mirror now, I do wonder to myself when am I going to see Skinny Cliff?
I don’t know the answer to that question. But I do know the answer to another question.
I really don’t ever want to see “Big Cliff” again.
Big Cliff was moody, had acid reflux problems and would sometimes be up all night with insomnia. Sometimes he drank too much, wouldn’t know how to say no and stop at eating or drinking and he found himself too tired sometimes to play with his kids.
Skinny Cliff is not that guy anymore.
He’s a better person and feels better. I kind of like Skinny Cliff. A lot.