I walk in the door and Daniel looks at me. Did those pants used to fit like that? When he hugs me he runs his hands down my waist and pinches a few times and says, Where did my girlfriend go?.

I go shopping. I needed to anyhow, as my small town wardrobe wasn't going to cut it in the business district. Out of habit, I take size eights from the rack. In them, I swim. Even the sixs aren't very snug. Size six? Does this mean that I'm no longer heavy? I'm concerned by how happy being light makes me feel. I've known the feeling before.

We go out last night, ride the train back into town to have dinner with a friend. I put on a new sundress. I wonder if it's too short for my age. As we wait for our friend, I glimse a reflection of myself. That's me? Those are my legs?