Raw

There is only so much pretending I can do. I was pretending to be fit, pretending to be on my way, pretending to move ahead. While I suppose, technically, I am still making progress, I hit a wall today. Or, I guess I should say, one hit me.
Got up early, showed up for tennis with a new pro. He was perfectly nice but could barely hide his surprise when he saw me. I know it is probably weird for him to see someone overweight (really overweight) at a tennis lesson. He did fine until I think he started to worry that I was going to keel over. Yes, when I move around, I sweat and turn red. And, yes, I probably do it much more than people half my weight who have been playing tennis more than 2 months. He was so kind and asked me a bunch if I was okay, if I wanted water...I finally said, "I know I am out of shape but I am working on it. I have come a long way and you should not worry." I don't want to be treated differently. I can't bear explaining. Apologizing onve more time. I know despite my struggles, I look the same from the outside, to someone who has never met me. I sensed that he gave up on me before I ever got a chance to show I could do it. Which I can't. But I want to. I managed to wait until I got home to weep. And now I can't stop. I am so sad. All that I manage to avoid caught up with me today. It feels so awful. So raw. So helpless. So little. So sad. The manatee. I think, intellectually, at least, I know this is temporary. Unfortunately, I have not been able to connect that thought to the tear ducts. Punched.