at my best

It’s interesting how when you have severe depression, regret is your constant companion. I remember when my depression was just mild. Regret was there, but it was fleeting. There were moments when it was actually gone.
These days, hopefully my final days, regret is there with me every step of the way. If only I had done this. If only I had said that. If only things would have happened this way or that way.
One of my recurring regrets is that she never got to see me at my best. Oh how I wish that she could see me now. Touch me. Hold me. Feel the difference.
Growing up I was always overweight. Some years I was fatter than others. I was always very self-conscious about my weight. My best year was my senior year in high school. I was 6’2″ and 215 pounds, and I worked out every day.
Then I got injured, and the summer between high school and college I ballooned up to 250 pounds. By the end of my freshman year I was pushing 280. Not easy to hide an extra 100 pounds over ideal weight.
During the rest of my college years I was able to lose weight and get in better shape, at least 2 different times. I remember when I had met this girl I really liked, and I got down to 225. Then we broke up and guess what? I was up to 280 in no time.
Post college I continued to struggle with weight issues. I would lose it only to gain it all back up. It became useless to even try. At around 26 I just decided to not worry about it anymore.
Fast forward ten years later. My weight was fluctuating between 285-295. I had no muscle at all. Just skin and bones and fat. Lots of fat.
Then a miracle happened. Even in my grotesque physical condition, she fell in love with me. She looked passed it and saw the man inside. It didn’t bother her that I was just so dann fat.
About 5 years into our relationship, things changed. I started having health issues. Diabetes type 2. I took it seriously. I immediately made lifestyle changes. I started to lose weight.
But, it was too late for her, I guess. She loved me more than anything when I was at my worst. But when I was improving, she was saying good bye. At my worst I had gotten up to 315 pounds. She always tried, unsuccessfully I should add, to wrap her arms around me and never let me go.
When she left me, I weighed 250. Still no muscle, but so much thinner. She didn’t even notice the change. Since then I have joined a gym and I workout almost every day.
I’m down to 240 now, but I have added 20 pounds of muscle. I look pretty decent for a guy in his early 40s. But she will never see this version of me. She will never see me, and love me, at my best.
And that is a regret that will be with me until the end.