My own valentine

Chapter 1

It was Valentine’s Day, and love was in the air. Walking around campus, seeing young people in love, happy couples everywhere – boys giving their girlfriends flowers and candy, girls giving flirty looks and blowing kisses – it was all so sweet and so romantic.

It was making me sick!

No, not really, but it did make me feel left out. It’d been almost two years since I broke up with my last boyfriend, and I hadn’t been able to meet anyone new. I’d been so focused on work, student teaching and programming, trying to adjust to life in the “real world” having finished my undergrad studies. While I have been very grateful for all that I had and all that I had achieved, I was beginning to feel like I would never meet someone that I could truly spend my life with.

My mother wouldn’t let me forget about it either. Everyday she’d be calling me, saying things like, “Oh, Leena! You’re almost thirty years old; when are you going to get married and give me grandbabies?”

“I don’t know, mom,” I'd tell her, “I just haven’t met the right guy yet.” Then I'd try to remind her of how much I’d accomplished over the years, how I built my own company from the ground up, how I’d become one of the most influential women in the field of computer science.

She is never impressed.

“Oh, Leena! When are you going to lose weight?” she'll cry. “You just keep getting fatter and fatter. You’ll never find a husband if you keep gaining weight.”

My mother has always been the biggest critic of my weight and my eating habits. It’s true: I am short and very plump, and I have an extremely large appetite. I love to eat and I don’t try to hide it. It’s ironic that my mother is the one who always criticizes my weight, seeing as how she has been heavy all of her life, and she is the one who fed my little brother and I a steady diet of fast food burgers and pizzas three meals a day every day of my life growing up. She raised a couple of little porkers, and now she expects me to be some sort of a supermodel or something?


In my computer lab at the university, I spend a surprising amount of time in solitude. Yes, students and faculty members come and go, but most of the time I am by myself, doing my work and snacking on whatever I can get my hands on. I love sweets, and I love salty and crispy things like potato chips and french fries. I have an absolute weakness for chocolate though; I just can’t get enough of it, and I can’t stop eating it once I start. I know I should be snacking on healthy things, like carrot sticks or rice cakes or something, but I can’t seem to help myself. The more fattening something is, the more I seem to love it.



Late in the afternoon I was working diligently, stuffing my face with chocolates, and this really cute guy who works on campus as a librarian named Robert came walking into the lab. I was surprised to see him, as typically the only time I see him is when I have to go to the library to check out some reference materials. Apparently on this particular day the library staff was having an issue with some software that they use, and Robert came up to see if I could help. It ended up being a pretty easy fix, it only took a few minutes. During that time Robert sat right beside me at my desk. He’s so handsome, and he smells amazing. As we sat there together, my fingers furiously clicking away at the keys as I attempted to solve this little mystery, I was really secretly wishing that Robert would ask me out.

After he left, I was mortified to look up at an image of myself on a webcam I have set up and see that my face had been smeared in chocolate the whole time. I looked like the Cookie Monster or something. “Ugh! Well so much for that romantic encounter,” I said to myself, “Robert would never be interested in some slovenly sloppy chocolate-eating pig such as I apparently am.”

Ah well.



On my way home from work later that day, I got a call from an old friend of mine named Stephanie. Stephanie and I were like sisters during my undergrad days, and ever since she moved away to Colorado to work with an IT firm out there, she makes sure to call me at least once a week to talk and share. In many ways, we were even closer now that we had more than half of the country in between us.

“So what’s up, girl?” she said to me as she usually does. I told her about the embarrassing incident with Robert and the chocolate that day, and I told her about how bummed I was about still being single and the level of anxiety I was feeling about having to spend yet another Valentine’s Day all alone.

“Well, why don’t you just be your own Valentine?” Stephanie said to me.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, instead of waiting for some man to come ask you out, why don’t you just take yourself out? Instead of waiting for someone else to give you flowers and candy, you can get those things and enjoy them yourself. Treat yourself, be good to yourself – you deserve it!”

Stephanie's words really struck a chord with me, and I left our conversation feeling so much better about myself as I usually did whenever I talked with her. I decided I would take her advice, and on my way home I made several stops.

First off, I took myself to a buffet for dinner. I ate plate after plate of delicious and filling foods. There was roast beef, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese and so much more. Having had my fill at that place, I decided I could go for some Asian cuisine, so I hit up yet another buffet. I had bucketfuls of noodles, rice and gobs and gobs of fried shrimp and chicken fingers.

After that I waddled my way over to a local bakery, where they had a marvelous selection of Valentine’s Day cupcakes and cookies. I ordered myself a big box full of sweets before heading over to the local chocolatiers shop. I picked up four big heart-shaped boxes of creme-filled chocolates – after sampling several dozen, of course.

Once I had bought myself a dozen roses at the florist, I brought my trove of goodies home, changed into my comfiest sweats, and I settled into the sofa for an evening of binge-watching corny romance movies on tv and gorging myself on sweets. I gleefully shoved cupcake after cookie after chocolate into my face, growing fuller and fatter by the minute. So engrossed was I in the sappy love stories being played out in front of me that I didn’t notice just how full I was actually getting.

Not until it was too late.


“Ugh! What have I done to myself!” I moaned as I massaged my huge overstuffed tummy all alone in the darkened room. “Look at me -*hiccup!* - I’m humongous! Oh, why do I do this to myself? *BURP!*”

My stomach was stuffed way beyond capacity; I had eaten more in one night than I ever had in all my life. I felt like I was going to burst! My belly was so bloated and distended that it looked like I was about to give birth to quintuplets, and I was in such pain and my breathing was so heavy that it felt like I was going into labor.

“Well, so much for slimming down to -*hic!*- find a Valentine!”



I laid back on the couch and futilely attempted to massage my giant aching gut. As my head hit the cushion on the couch, my blob of a belly went towering into the air above me, wobbling all around like a massive wad of gelatine, the contents inside of me sloshing all around like a washing machine in the spin cycle. Intermittent burps and hiccups came escaping from my esophagus as my digestive system worked overtime to process the onslaught of food I’d just forced into myself. My tongue came dangling out over my lower lip as I struggled to catch my breath, and then what was left of the elastic waistband on my sweatpants gave out, snapping violently and making my huge abdomen spill out and jiggle about all the more.

“Uhghhh! Oink, oink, fatty! *BRAP!*” I said aloud as I slapped the sides of my huge gut with both hands.



Just then I saw my phone light up on the coffee table, and I heard the all so familiar ‘ping’ sound that sends an adrenaline rush into all of our systems when we hear it. Someone was texting me, but who could it be at this late hour? I struggled to reach the phone with my chunky arm. Managing to grab it with my sticky little paw still covered in chocolate and pink icing, I had to squint my eyes to make out the words on the screen. Once I did, my eyes opened wide and I suddenly perked right up.

“Hi Leena, it’s Robert from work. I hope you don’t mind but I got your number from the faculty directory. I know it’s kind of last minute, and I’m sorry to be texting you so late, but I was wondering if you had any plans for Valentine’s Day.”



I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was this real? Was this really happening? The thing that I have been wishing for was finally coming true, and here I was laid on the sofa, incapacitated by my own gluttony.

Unsure of exactly what to say, all I could do was be honest.


“Hi, Robert. No I don’t mind at all that you got my number from the directory. It’s actually nice to hear from you. To be honest with you, Robert, I was kind of hoping that you would have asked me out while we were at work today.”

“I know, I really wanted to. I was so close to saying something when I came to see you about that software issue. I guess I just kind of chickened out at the last minute. I’m sorry. I really like you, Leena. I guess I’m just kind of shy.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I really like you too, Robert. I was actually kind of afraid that maybe you thought I was gross because I had chocolate all over my face lol.”

“Haha! Well as long as we are being honest with each other, I don’t mind telling you that I think it’s adorable when you have food on your face.”

“Oh, you mean there have been other times when you’ve seen me with food on my face like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much every time I see you lol. I think it’s cute though.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. I really love a woman who loves to eat. It seems like everytime I see you you are snacking on something. I really like that.”

“You do?”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“Really?”

“I think it’s sexy.”

“Well you’d love me right now then. I’m laying here on my sofa with a huge stuffed belly and I am covered in chocolate hehe.”

“You are?”

“OMG, Robert, I made such a pig of myself today!”

“Yeah?”

“Honestly, I have never eaten so much in all my life as I did today.”



I went on to explain to Robert how I was depressed about still being single on Valentine’s Day, and how my friend Stephanie suggested that I be my own Valentine this year and treat myself – and how my interpretation of that suggestion somehow turned into me completely gorging myself and blowing up to the size of a beluga whale. Then, as if I had no shame at all, I snapped a picture of myself laying there on my sofa with my giant belly hanging out, completely disheveled and covered in food, and I sent it to him.

“Aww, you poor thing,” Robert wrote back, “you look like you could use a good belly rub.”

“A belly rub would be amazing right now,” I replied, “I’ve been trying to massage it myself, but I’m so bloated that my chunky arms can barely reach my belly button.”



Robert responded with a heart emoji, and I think it was then that I realized what was happening. My boyfriend that I had broken up with two years earlier was, like my mother, constantly criticizing me for my weight and trying to change who I was. The reality of me is that I am fat. I’ve always been fat, I’m always going to be fat. Any man that comes into my life is going to have to be accepting of that. In an ideal world, I would love to find someone who was not only accepting of who I was, but who actually loved the fact that I was so fat. I know that people like this exist; I’ve read countless stories and articles online about men who desire and lust after large women, who put fat women on pedestals and worship them like goddesses. I mean, the fact of the matter is that I enjoy being fat. I like my big belly and my fat ass. I like my thick thighs and my chunky arms, I like my plump and bouncy boobs, my chubby face and my rolling double-chins; I know that I’m cute, I know that I’m sexy. Is it really so inconceivable to think that someone out there would think that I was as well?

It occurred to me at that moment that perhaps I had found just such a someone.


“You don’t live too far from campus, do you?” Robert inquired.

“I’m only two blocks away,” I replied, “I could walk there if I wasn’t such a fatty lol.”

There was a pause. I wasn’t sure what was happening. What was he thinking? Was he trying to invite himself over? Furthermore, should I allow him to come over if he was? I mean, I liked Robert a lot. He was absolutely adorable, and it appeared that maybe we had something very important in common. But it’s not as if he was my boyfriend, or we knew each other all that well. Should I take a chance and roll the dice?



“Are you volunteering to my belly-rubber for the evening?” I decided to say cheekily, only half kidding but deep down hoping that he would take me completely seriously.

“If you text me your address,” Robert responded immediately, “I can be there in ten minutes.”



My heart skipped a beat. I was elated, but also conflicted. What was this all about? What was he expecting? Was he expecting to take me to bed, not even having taken me out on a date first? The fact was that I was so stuffed and bloated at that moment that I could barely move, I doubt I would have been able to do much in the way of having sex, and cute though he was, I just wasn't sure that I was ready for that with Robert. As I was debating on what to tell him, I got a message from him that sort of set my mind at ease.

“Leena, I just want to tell you that if you want me to come over, I’d love to come over and see you, and I would be honored to be your ‘belly-rubber’ tonight. But I just want you to know that I am not trying to make a move or make you do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I know that you and I are only just getting to know one another now, and I very much look forward to being able to spend more time with you and get to know you better in the future. Tonight I will be yours to help you take care of your tummy-ache and nothing more. You can trust me.”



Taking a chance and hoping that he was sincere, I did text him my address and he was at my doorstep less than ten minutes later. It took me a while to pry myself up off the couch in order to let him in, but once I did Robert was nothing less than a perfect gentleman. He sat next to me on the couch, and just as he promised he gave my big stuffed belly a very nice massage. We sat together for the rest of the evening watching cheesy movies together, talking a bit and sharing a few intimate details about ourselves, but we spent a lot of quiet time together as well. It felt nice to be with someone who didn’t feel the need to incessantly prattle on about meaningless nonsense just to keep the conversation going. Robert did most of his talking with his hands, his delicate fingers gently massaging away the discomfort in my belly as his hand glided along the contours of my rounded abdomen. Talking is wonderful, but there’s so much you can learn about someone through a simple touch, and I think I learned a lot about Robert that evening.

As time went on, the relaxation and relief that I felt from Robert’s caring massaging lulled me to sleep. I awoke hours later as the sun began to rise outside, delighted to see that Robert was there sleeping beside me with his hand still firmly perched atop my belly, holding me lovingly and cradling me close to him. It was a warm and beautiful feeling, one that I will treasure forever.

Robert and I are still getting to know one another, and every day that goes by we are able to spend more and more time together. I truly believe that I have found someone very special in him, perhaps the special someone that I have been waiting for all of my life, and it all began that one wonderful Valentine’s Day.

It was the best Valentine’s Day ever!





The End