I so badly wanted to throw up those bites of salad but Sam was in the other room and though the tv was on, I know he would hear me. Then I thought of an idea. I reached around the shower curtain and turned the water on. He would just think I was in the shower.
Then I sat on my knees in front of the toilet and threw up. I gagged and wiped my mouth, rinsing it out in the sink. It burned my throat every time but it was worth it. I turn the shower off and walk into the living room area like nothing happened.
"I thought you were in the shower?" Sam tilts his head to the side as I sat next to him. He leans into me, which isn't uncommon.
"Mm yeah," I say unsure what he was insinuating.
"Well your hair isn't wet," he comments. Shoot, I thought to myself. I had to think of something quick to say. He was looking at me with those big blue eyes of his and it made my brain go blank.
"Um well I didn't need to wash it so I didn't get it wet," I said, proud I thought of something. Sam stares at me for a few more seconds before turning away. I swallow hard.
Sam eventually leaves me on the couch and walks to the small kitchen. He opens the freezer and pulls out the container of ice cream.
"Hey I'm scooping you some ice cream," Sam shouts. I wince.
"No that's ok. I'm still pretty full," I call out. I start to sweat a little, he's going to catch on eventually.
"But Colby, you only ate three bites," Sam says walking back in with two bowls. "Plus I already scooped it."
He sinks back down on the couch, holding out my bowl. I take it gingerly and lay it on my jean covered thigh. Sam eats his rather quickly while I struggle to take a bite. I finally take the tiniest bite ever and instantly feel it coming back up. I jump from the couch and run to my bathroom.
"Colby?" Sam is hollering.
I grab the toilet seat and start gagging as there is nothing for me to throw up. Tears stream down my eyes as I think about how fat I'll be. I punch the wall next to me, it hurts my fist but I don't care. The pain feels good.
"Colbs?" Sams worried voice enters my ears and I glance up. My heart swells at his nickname for me. The door was cracked open and Sams head was peeking through. I must look ridiculous, bent over the toilet, crying. He walks in and leans over me, a hand on my shoulder.
"Are you sick?" He questions. A hand finds its way to my forehead like he was checking for a fever. I laugh softly. I didn't think I was sick, well sick of being fat. I glance at him and see worry in his eyes. He helps me up and wipes my tears but they still stream silently down my face.
I look at myself in the mirror. I look pathetic, swollen eyes from crying, dark bags were evident under them. My cheeks were still chubby and I take a mental note to start working on that. My arms still had some flab on them and it made me cringe when Sam wrapped a hand around them. He's probably thinking about how fat I am.
"I'm sorry," I murmur. He holds my gaze through the mirror. My eyes dart to his hand around my arm and then back up. He loosens his grip.
"For what Colbs?" He whispers. I roll my eyes like he doesn't know.
"About my arm fat," I say quietly. I see his eyebrows shoot up and he gasps.
"What? Colby, you don't have any arm fat," he says flabbergasted. I sigh and take my arm from his grip. I hold it over my head slightly and with my other hand wiggle the skin under my upper arm. The flab that was there moved slightly.
"Oh honey," was all he said.
Then he wraps me into his arms, hugging me tightly. I try to get out of his grip because he could probably feel all my fat. But his fingers are running up and down my back and it was so soothing that I gave up on my struggle. I allowed him to hold me as I cried some more. He was shushing me like a baby. My head was tucked under his chin, my hands covering my eyes.
"Oh Colby," he kept saying.
He let me cry until there was no more tears to fall. Then he just cradled me in his arms as we rocked back and forth in the bathroom. When he pulled away his hands rested on my shoulders so I couldn't walk away. I noticed his eyes were swollen with tears too. I reach up and touch his wet cheek.
"Why are you crying?" I asked voice cracking.
"Because it hurts me that you can't see how beautiful you are," he whispers.
My breath hitches in my throat and a new set of tears threaten to spill from my soggy eyes. How could he think that I'm beautiful? I'm far from beautiful. He turns me so we're facing the mirror again. He points to each part of body and tells me how beautiful I am.
"And your smile and the dimples on your cheeks. Your dark mysterious blue eyes and that little freckle on your jaw. That's what makes you perfect baby," Sam finishes off saying.
He's resting his head on my shoulder, silent tears flowing down his face again. I continue to stare in the mirror trying to see all the things he sees. But I can only see a chubby person with a fat face and lots of flaws.
"But..." I open my mouth to talk.
"No buts Colby. You are beautiful and perfect just the way you are," Sam says forcefully.
But I don't believe him. Why can't he see that I'm fat, that I have imperfections unlike him. His arm snakes around my waist and I tense up, knowing he feels the extra weight on my hips. His fingers grip my sides. He leads me out of my bathroom and into my room.
"Bed time yeah?" He says and starts to take off my shirt. I struggle against him, knowing full well he won't like what he sees.
"No Sam, you'll see my fat," I protest. But it's too late and my shirt is already off. I quickly cross my arms over my chest and search around the room frantically. If I can just make it to my bed and hurl the sheets over my body he won't see, right?
"Colby," he hiccups. I finally look at him to see him staring at my body. He's going to talk about how fat I am I just know it.
"Baby, you're so skinny," Sam whispers sadly.
I look down at myself. I haven't looked at my stomach in months afraid to see how much weight I've gained. I'm expecting to see a pudgy stomach and a round chest. But instead I see my bones poking through the thin layer of skin. I could see my rib cage and I smiled. Maybe I wasn't so fat.
Sam takes a step closer and traces my ribs with his fingers. It ticked and I stepped back. A single tear runs down his face.
"Honey, you're too skinny," Sam once again says. I groan, "Stop saying that. I'm still fat." I try to pinch some skin below my ribs to show him. But there was barely anything there.
"C'mere and let me show you how beautiful you are," Sam mumbles.
And Sam did show me how beautiful I was that night. He kissed my thin skin all over, sucking at my neck. He ran his fingers down my body causing shivers to erupt. And he tangled his fingers in my hair and laughed against my lips.
And I started to believe him. I believed that I was perfect just the way I was. I believed that I didn't have to starve myself to look beautiful. And Sam made me believe it and I kissed him to show him I was grateful.
—
(thanks for reading!)
only human
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