Nick & Charlie

intervention

WARNING: MAJOR THEMES OF EATING DISORDER AND OCD.   LIKE WE GET REAL

context: nick and Charlie are married and now live together

Charlie's POV:

I wake up to my stomach growling. It's not even light yet. I think back and cannot recall eating anything the day before. Maybe a bagel the day before last.
Nick always makes my lunch and I take it to work and throw it away. And I've been going to bed before he can pester me about dinner.
Without thinking I sneak out of bed and make my way to our kitchen, passing our wedding photo and family pictures on the wall. It was a lovely wedding. Bigger then I would have liked, but Nick didn't want anyone to feel left out.   It was a lovely day and I can't help but smile seeing me and him in suits leaning on each other. A fancy, elabrate, and everlasting tribute to our love. I can't believe all we've been through.

I graze my hands on the picture and reminise how lucky we are when my stomach gnaws at me again. 

It feels sort of good in a twisted sort of way. The feeling that I am above food. I am in control. I don't know why I wasted time with meds. I am fine. I am in control.

Then that feeling comes on. 

I need to eat. I need to eat. I need to eat. 

But I have to do it right. 

Toast maybe? I grab the bread off the counter. I dig into the bag and sift past the malformed slices until I find two identical ones. I slide them in the toaster. 

But what to eat it with. I pick up the butter. No too fattening. Peanut butter? no to many calories. Maybe jam?

Yes. that ought to be fine. 

But when I look down in front of me the Jam, peanut butter, and butter are stacked from smallest to largest. But something doesn't feel right. Maybe in a row? no that's not good. There's not enough items. That's it. 

I take out the cereal. no not enough. I take out the packets of oatmeal and line them up. Smallest to largest. Then largest to smallest. That's not right. 

No no no

what am I missing?

I hear someone clear their throat. I look up and--

Nick POV
-- shit
I see Charlie with half the food in our house organized on the counter.
He looks like a deer in head lights
We are both silent for a moment.
"S-sorry i-i'll put it back" he says. He reaches for the Jam but just stares down at his hand like he's unable to  bring it any further.

Charlie
I can't pick up the Jam. I feel my body tremble just at the thought. It's not perfect yet. I can't undo all my hard work.
no I'm weird this is weird I have to put it away.
"It's okay" says Nick. "Let me make you something." He gently grabs my shoulder and guides me twords our room "just rest and I'll bring you something"

Nick
I know he stopped taking his meds. I saw his half full bottle of Parxotine in the garbage a few days after he complained about constant headaches. He keeps denying it and I don't know why. He's skipping dinner. He's always sleeping when he's home. I don't understand why he did this to himself and more importanly how do I get him to take his meds again. I love Charlie more then anything, but he can be a stubborn motherfucker. But I got to get him back on his care plan, or it might spiral out of control again and I don't think editor at a literary agency can afford to take months off like he did back in High School. 

Charlie POV

He knows. He knows. He knows. 

He's gonna make me take those meds again. Make me eat the imperfect foods. I just can't do that. 

I have to get ready for work. No it's saturday. I need to leave. leave leave. 

He knows he knows he knows

What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

I start to pace at the foot of our bed.

He's gonna make me go on my meds.

My meds my meds my meds.

Fuck I'll gain weight again I just started losing it. Fuck.

And everything will feel muddled again. I won't be able to feel again. When I'm on that damn thing it's feels like all my emotions are tuned out and I feel less creative. I hadn't started making music till I stopped. Or writing.

I know I'm more sleepy but it's a fair trade to finally feel like myself.

I hear the floor in the hallway creak.

Fuck he's coming.

I run into the bathroom and lock the door.

Shit shit shit

He's gonna make me take my meds my meds my meds.

I knock on the counter 3 times but I don't feel any calmer.

I can't let him ruin this. I'll just play it cool.

He knocks.

"You okay char?"

"Y-yeah I'll be right out."

I flatten my hair.
Throw water on my face.

He can't make me do anything
Anything anything

I take a big gulp of air and let it fill my chest and ease it out till my shoulders relax.

I open the door.

Nick is sitting on the bed with butter and toast.

My stomach gnaws at me. It's my favorite to settle my stomach. He's good.

He hands it to me and I take a small bite. He was liberal with the butter and the toast has grown cold. It's buttery mush makes me want to spit it out but I force myself to swallow.
I take another bite for good measure.
I gotta turn it on if I want to keep this up.
I set my plate on my lap.
"Thanks for making this," I say in the happiest way I can. "Sorry about the mess I got carried away....A-anyway, what do you want to do today?"
He rubs the back of his neck.
"Char, we need to talk about this. I'm really wo-"
"Ah! It's nothing. I just had a slip. U-um do you wanna go to the park? There's a festival happening in the square and it seems like a lot of fun." I stand up and set the plate on the bedside table. "We should get go-"
Nick grabs my wrist.
"Char its five in the morning. Besides we need to talk about this" His voice is firm so I turn towards him. He holds both of my hands gently in each palm.
"I found your meds in the garbage"
A shutter runs trough me and I force myself not to run away.
"This is serious Char. You know how bad it can get a-and I don't want to see you lose yourself again."
I feel nauseous.
"Please. I have them in the bedside table. Just take them please it's only gonna get worse."
Fuck
"Please I wanna--"
I run to the bathroom and up comes bile and the foul toasty mush. It taste Like acid and cardboard.
I keep heaving into the bowl but there's nothing left to come out. I gasp between heaves. Tears are streaming down my face. I'm so dizzy. My body trembles and aches with each breath.
I feel a hand on my back.
"GET OUT" I shove him away but I'm so weak he doesn't move.
"Char,  please"
He hands me a cup of water but I heave again.
"YOURE..hah...making it worse.. ha ha get out"
"Charlie"
I finally catch my breath
"No"
"I just wanna help."
I stand up and push him out and lock the door.
Fuck.