Boob-B-Gone

When I was 12, I was the first girl in my class to need a training bra. While everyone else was perfecting their shapely humps with toilet paper and shoulder pads, I was flying high. I had boobs. And it was awesome. Granted, I was an A-cup, but at 12 years old, you can't ask for much more.

Unfortunately, I stayed that way. I had no boobs all the way through high school. On my best days, I filled a B-cup. But that was rare. I'm sure, if you were generous or sympathetic, you could say it was because I was an athlete. At 125 pounds, I was all muscle, which meant the two lovely sacks of fat on my chest didn't exist.

I didn't get it. All the other women in my family were more than well-endowed. When the hell did heavenly racks start skipping a generation?

I didn't truly experience anything beyond a beautiful B until college. Thank God for the Freshman 15. Sure, I packed on a few pounds. But thankfully, most of it went to my chest. I didn't care if my rear no longer fit into my size 6s, I had a rack. And a nice one at that. I had never even dreamed of being a C-cup. So I played it up with tank tops and low-cut shirts. Not for anyone else, mind you. Those boobs were for me.

They stayed, even after I lost (and gained) the Freshman 15 a few more times. I was in heaven. The rear had never been a problem of mine, so my new ta-tas just rounded out the equation a bit. And I loved it. Maintaining equilibrium with a couple of voluptuous jugs was gravy.

And then they were gone.

About six months ago, I got serious about working out again. I joined boot camp, made push-ups part of my daily routine and started running two miles (on most days). I was determined. I was getting that muscle-bound high school body back.

Everything was going fine until ... wait, where the hell did my boobs go? That wasn't part of the plan!

I'm now shrinking violently. All my bras, which I rarely wear anymore, are loose. They're probably about double the size they should be. And my beautiful ta-tas are all but gone. My boobs! Where the hell are my boobs! Oh God, what have you done to me!

I went swimming with a few of my cousins yesterday, and my cousin's wife, who just had a baby, decided to join us in the pool. I couldn't stop looking at her gigantic jugs. They were awesome. They sort of just floated on top of the water while mine were barely visible in my bathing suit.

God, you know, I don't ask for much. I work hard, I play hard, I keep good company. Why can't I just fill up an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder with confidence? Why God, whhhhhyyyyy?!