digress & obsess [v2]

they were having a decadent dinner, he ordered his usual medium rare tenderloin.

she was craving her norwegian salmon steak.

halfway through the meal, she had trouble working through her food. 

something felt oddly different.

maybe it was the damn flu her immune system had been fighting against, for the past few weeks.

he asked her wot was wrong. 

she felt a wave of nausea rush over her.

he offered her his half eaten steak. 

she took a few bites at the rare meat, only to stop, at the sight of crimson blood staining the white plate in the reflection of the shiny steak knife.

something felt oddly different.

he asked her wot was worrying her, if he could do anything.

her nausea was getting worse.

she lit a ciggarette, and took a long, slow drag.

the feeling got worse, everything she exhaled. 

"can we go home?" said she.

he nodded.  "sure, baby.  il ask them to pack the food up.  you should lie down and rest".

"thanks".  she stubbed out her cigarette.

they waited for the bill.

she felt ravenous.  yet she couldnt seem to take another bite.

suddenly memories and vivid images flashed across her eyes.   images of her bent over the toilet seat and sink, digging her throat, trying to cleanse her body of the sins she had newly commited in the dining room. 

each time her body wretched and stomach convulsed, she felt an odd sense of relief.  the relief led to the need for control. 

the more and more she cleansed herself, the more and more control she needed to feel sane.  and normal.

it was a vicious cycle. 

"baby? are you alright?"

her thoughts were came to an abrupt stop.

"yes, im fine.  feeling really queasy". she quickly replied.

he kissed her on the cheek.

"lets go home okay?" 

"okay"

the held hands as they walked out of the restaurant and to the car.

"guilty".

"huh?" she felt confused.

"guilty".

she looked at him. his lips pursed. he was concentrating on driving her misaligned car.

"guilty".

the voice in her head was starting to sound like a broken record. 

she felt it.  and tried to shut it out.

they fell asleep side by side that night soon after making up for lost time. and sex.

the familar warmth and safety she felt in his bed wasnt enough to protect her from haunting dreams. 

****************

she walked along a familiar path and saw many familiar faces.  some of whom she loved.  some she hated.  some seemed to be faces from a pasing glance on the street.

she walked up a hill, looking for someone she wanted to hold hands with. 

she couldnt find him.

she cried out. she wept.

but she still couldnt find him. 

then she came to a long dining table.  filled with food.  all kinds of food.  there were many people there, seated, chatting animatedly and laughing.  they seemed to be beckoning for her to come.

she sat down at the table.

something felt odd. 

the people suddenly seemed to be seated so far away.  she could barely hear wot they were talking about.

she felt lost. and lonely.

she looked at the food in the plate in front of her. 

she took a bite. then another. then another.

she panicked.  her hands had a mind of its own.  she couldnt stop.

the people at the table seemed to be further and further away from her.

her mouth was bleeding from all the chewing.

*******************************************

she woke up, gasping for air with beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead.

she looked over at him. 

he looked so peaceful, curled up beside her.

she didnt want to wake him. 

she felt restless,

her stomach sent sharp pains all the way to her chest.

hunger.

without much of a choice, she got up and walked quietly to the kitchen. 

she reluctantly made her self a hot drink,

looked at the calorie count on a box of cereal

and sullenly counted 15 individual pieces of fruit loops cereal to put in her empty bowl.

she sat down at the dinner table.  alone.

she took a bite from her 15 pieces of cereal and panicked.

she got up, took her small bowl, and hot drink and quickly ran back to the room. 

safe. 

she locked the door and seated herself comfortably at his computer table, staring blankly at the screen as she ate her cereal.

her fingers itched to fiddle with something. 

so she logged onto her account and started blogging about her bad dream.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 12th, 2007 at 11:08 pm and is filed under emo-shit. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.