Occiditur

Slow Fade

"Come on honey." Sam brushed my shoulder as she passed me. I was sitting at my kitchen table staring uninterested into my plate of food.

"The guests are gonna be here soon." Samantha reasoned with me on her return into the kitchen.

I nodded without looking at her. I only remained focused on the task at hand; forcing myself to eat. If it had been up to me, I wouldn't even be trying. Sam insisted though that I give eating a try. At least for Ami's birthday. I agreed to help her out, and eat. She had set the plate of eggs in front of me at seven thirty-two. I hadn't taken but two small bites and the time was now eleven forty-seven. I felt absolutely no desire to shovel food into myself. Every bite was nauseating, like the feeling of eating after you've stuffed yourself. I watched my plate and tried forcing myself to pick up the spoon and take in one mouthful. I ignored my brain's request.

Samantha was rushing around the house preparing for the party that was due to start at noon.

She had commanded that I was not allowed to get up from the table until I had eaten all of the eggs. She had resorted to treating me like a child to get me to respond. I took one more courageous bite. I gagged and took my time chewing so that I wouldn't throw up.

Samantha pulled a chair out beside me.

"Mick what's wrong?" She asked intently.

I rested my head on my hand and piddled with my food.

"I'm just not hungry." I said with a fake smile.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled wider.

"Are you pretending to not be hungry?" She asked me.

"What?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Are you not eating because you don't want to help me with the party?" She asked seriously.

"No! Why would you think that?" I inquired.

"Okay, that's just how it seems." She sighed.

"Sam, I'm just not hungry." I reassured her.

My wife stood and half rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'm sure that's it." She walked away without another word. She was mad at me. She didn't believe me! She thought I didn't want to help. That I was just faking. I fell in love with her because of her imagination, but her wild way of thinking things that are not true, was getting old fast.

When did we drift apart? I couldn't pinpoint the moment when she stopped believing me. It was a slow fade that baffled me. Like watching your child grow up. You don't notice they're growing until one day it slaps you in the face.

I buried my face in my hands and let out a long deep breath. I made a resolve to scarf down the remaining eggs, and help her for the rest of the day, without complaint. I took my spoon and breathed an even deeper breath. And then I scooped up a mound of eggs and shoveled them into my mouth. I gagged and in response stuffed in a second spoonful. I chewed and tried hard to swallow. I had to give myself a moment before stuffing in the next two spoonfuls. I repeated this four times before the plate was cleared. I sat with my head low and my stomach churning. I felt like at any moment I might explode.

Sam rushed back into the kitchen and glanced at my plate.

"I'm through." I sighed.

"I can see." She said curtly.

"What now!?" I complained. "I ate the food!"

"You told me you weren't hungry, but you ate all of your food in less than five minutes." She complained.