Okay, this is a touchy subject for many, including me. Watching Matty get so thin in Season 3 was heartbreaking, and I still have so much trouble watching it...the only way I can is to remember that he is healthy now. He got past his problems and he is happy, which is a wonderful thing...but the weight thing it a touchy subject for me, and if it is for me, a lowly fan, then I can only imagine how hard it is for him...but we can all sit back and say 'Yes! Well done man! So proud of you!" Anyway, enough of that. So, even though it scared me, and I know why he was so thin, I still felt the need to explain it into the show...not with addiction, but with another horrible disease: Bullimia. So, please read and review, and I love you! Oh and the title comes from the Lifehouse song of the same name, which I was listening to when I thought this up...cheers! Oh, and I do think both Matty and Chandler are beautiful btw
I do not own friends/characters/actors, but I do own a lot of pride and amazement for Matt for getting past his problems...it takes a strong person todo that...bravo!
Disgusting.
Repulsive.
Hideous.
Nauseating.
And those were only the nice words.
He could think of so many other words to describe himself, but today he was feeling lenient. Yesterday he had been harsh. Tomorrow he could be cruel.
But today, he was feeling almost sane.
Today, he was feeling almost attractive.
But it wouldn't last.
He knew the truth. He wasn't attractive. He wasn't even passable. What he was, was fat.
Overweight.
Chubby.
Heavy.
Grotesque.
Disgraceful.
A pathetic attempt at a human being.
Perhaps he wasn't feeling so lenient after all.
But still, there were so many other words.
Shirt off, followed by a disgusted look.
He couldn't seem to become passable. He lost weight and still he looked disgusting.
Still, he looked fat.
Fat, with his ribs protruding considerably. Hipbones, sharp enough to kill. Shoulder blades, impressively jutting out. Stomach, impossibly flat. Arms, as thin as Monica's.
But still he was fat. Still he was disgraceful.
Still he hated himself.
There had always been a reason.
The reason why girls seemed to stay away. It wasn't the jokes. It wasn't the commitment phobia. It wasn't his one hundred and one complexes.
It had nothing to do with his personality.
Phoebe had said it, months ago. Put on a little weight, you start questioning yourself. It had hurt, but he had put it past him for a while.
But Janice kissing another man had been the last straw.
He had realised then; realised just how grotesque he was. How unbelievably unattractive he really was. No kind words could fix that. No kind words could make him thin.
He was disgusting.
Disgraceful.
Unappealing.
Appalling.
Repulsive.
Quasimodo.
He deserved nothing more than to live in his bell tower and stay there; stay away from everybody. Shield himself from the taunting looks. The happiness. The beauty that surrounded him. Beauty everywhere. Everywhere except for here.
Him.
Disgusting.
He had to get thinner. He had to lose it; lose it so that he could be beautiful too.
The toilet flushed; his stomach empty once more.
His stomach on its way to being thinner.
But it still wouldn't be enough.
He would still be a Quasimodo, meant to spend eternity high above the city; away from where no one would be subjected to see him.
Only he didn't have a bell tower. So instead, he was destined to be surrounded by beauty.
And he was destined to work for that beauty.
Because he was a disgrace.
Disgusting.
Repulsive.
Hideous.
Nauseating.
Fat.
Quasimodo.