Man in the Mirror Ch. 02

On the very first day of my vacation, I met with a nutritionist. She was a pleasant looking woman who looked like she probably weighed all of 100 lbs. I spent an entire day with her going over facts about how the body breaks food down. It sounded like stuff that you would learn in any decent nutrition class, but it was more focused towards weight loss.

Then, we went through eating. More importantly, how to eat. She showed me what to look for in food labels, how to count my daily calorie intake, what the best sources for protein and vitamins are, and what was considered a balanced meal.

It was a pretty eye-opening day. When I was done with her, I realized a few things about how I viewed food. In short, I ate for fun rather than for fuel. If I was bored, I ate. If I craved a certain type of food, I ate it whether I was hungry or not. If the food tasted good, I continued to eat it until it was gone.

The next day, Jerry took me grocery shopping. Let me tell you, there is nothing more depressing than realizing that 90 percent of the grocery store was off limits to me. Even things that I thought were healthy weren't. He wouldn't let me buy diet sodas, microwaveable meals (even if it was a low-calorie meal), or any type of bread. Not even wheat.

The next project was going through a bunch of cookbooks and learning how to make meals. I wasn't allowed to eat anything that I didn't make on the stove. In fact, he said that I could only use the microwave for what it was made for; warming food up. This meant that the food that went into the microwave had to be previously cooked by me using ingredients that I prepared.

I spent the entire time off from work being perpetually hungry. I felt like I was going starve to death. The meals that I made were either inedible or just plain nasty. I suffered through it, choking down what things I could eat.

I had to stay away from TV. The commercials were the worst. I didn't realize how many commercials have food in them. It was torture.

A funny thing happened, though. I started to pay more attention to the cookbooks. I looked up meals on the internet. I watched cooking shows on TV. Eventually, I found food that was in my skillset to make.

Was I a chef? Hell no. But before the week was up, I was able to make meals suitable for human consumption. They may not have been gourmet, but I wasn't on the verge of starvation.

The celebration of that victory was short lived, because that's when the workouts started. Unlike the amateur workouts that I did before, these were tailor made to make my body suffer in the worst possible ways. Jerry went with me to the gym twice a week after I got off work. We worked out for two hours. I spent 30 minutes on the treadmill as a warm up. Then, we hit the weights for an hour. The last 30 minutes were spent in the spa area, relaxing.

On top of his two workouts a week, he told me that I had to work out at least two more days. It didn't have to be at the gym. It could be any activity that got the blood racing. He told me that he would be keeping an eye out to make sure that I didn't lie to him about it. At any moment, he could do a spot check.

He also said that sex didn't count as a physical activity. I couldn't tell if he was being facetious or not. However, when I jokingly told him that wouldn't be a problem, he didn't laugh.

No sense of humor, I guess.

So, on top of always being hungry, I was exhausted. My entire body ached constantly. It became difficult to walk, or lift things. All I wanted to do when I got home was stay in bed.

But even that wasn't possible. I was a father. I had to make sure to squeeze in time with the kids whenever it was possible. I didn't want to disappear from their lives, so I had to suck it up.

I was grateful that Paige went out of her way to make it easier on me to spend time with them. She didn't object to me dropping by the house, even if it was unexpected. Part of her gracious attitude could have been born from guilt, but I felt that she truly wanted to do what was best for the kids. They needed me to be a constant presence in their lives, and she was more than accommodating.

She even went as far as to insist that I keep the house key. I think the implied agreement was that I respect her privacy.

This is where I admit that I didn't keep up my end of that unspoken treaty. I'm not proud of it, but I fell victim to the green-eyed monster of jealousy. It started out as innocent curiosity. I idly snooped around when there was little risk of me getting caught. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. Just getting a sense of how things were going in my absence.

The first thing that struck me as strange was the unfamiliar toothbrush in the master bathroom. I didn't really put much stock in that at first. It wasn't until I saw men's body wash in the shower that I started to freak out.

I didn't find any men's clothes in her closet, but I did see a pair of boxer shorts in her laundry basket. I can't tell you what ran through my mind as I looked at another man's underwear amongst my wife's lingerie. It was a violation. This guy kept pushing his way further and further into my space, and marking it for his territory.

I swallowed my anger. No matter what I found when Paige wasn't looking, I pretended that nothing was wrong. For one, I didn't want her to know that I was snooping around. I figured I could gather more info if she was oblivious. The other reason why I didn't press anything was plain old pride. I wanted to be detached and aloof; like nothing she did bothered me.

I did question my kids about any strange things happening lately with mommy. The most important "strange thing" was any new people visiting. They didn't know what I was talking about, so I had to assume that Paige kept her end of the deal and didn't let it get to the kids. More than likely, their "playtime" happened on dates or at the house before the kids made it home from school. Until she violated that, she did nothing wrong.

As much as I pretended that nothing hurt me, I wasn't sure that Paige was convinced. It's near impossible to hide pain for the long haul. There were a few instances when she would get this apologetic look on her face when she caught me looking at her. Watching her move forward so effortlessly while I remained stuck in a quagmire of regret was painful. There were a few times that it was too much for me to gloss over.

The workouts with Jerry helped a lot. Listening to him bark at me while I was on the bench press, or having him slap me in the stomach as I did sit-ups took my mind off of Paige. Even his condescending jabs at my nickname focused my negative energy away from my problems.

Apart from that, I went to work and did my job. As it is with many men in my situation, my office became a place of refuge. Here, I was valued. I think that's why men throw themselves into their jobs when their marriages fail. At work, you are judged by your performance. There is a quantitative number that shows how well or how poorly you do. If numbers are good, you are praised. If they aren't, you are reprimanded. If there is a problem, you simply find it, eliminate it, and replace the missing component with a better one.

If only marriages worked like that.

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

Months flew by in an eyeblink, yet every second dragged endlessly. They were filled with pain, agony, and torture. But not all pain is bad. Sometimes, it just lets you know that you're alive.

The human body is an amazing thing. It has the capacity to heal itself, even though you don't realize it's happening. It adapts to a hostile environment, making it stronger and better equipped to deal with the conditions. For instance, it builds muscle to overcome weakness when it is forced to lift things that are too heavy for it. it makes the lungs more tolerable to breathing heavier when it is forced to run more. It makes the heart stronger so that it can supply more blood to a body that needs it to keep up rigorous activity. It becomes insensitive to certain pain, and it stops registering it as such.

This also applies emotionally.

I didn't realize it, but something was happening beneath the surface. The downfall of my marriage hurt a little bit less each time I had to deal with a symptom of it. Bit by bit, piece by piece, my heart started to become numb to state of my estrangement.

Things in me and Paige's dynamic shifted. It happened so subtly that I didn't even realize it. Like an unwatched clock, the tiny movements remained unnoticed until they were summed up to showcase a significant change.

The shift didn't become apparent until we were a couple weeks shy of our "separation anniversary". The kids were asleep upstairs, and I was in the living room waiting for her to come home so that I could leave. During the evening, I spilled some soda on my shirt. It was fairly new (my old clothes were becoming a little loose on me) so I wanted to wash it right away to avoid a permanent stain. I figured I could pop it in the washer and dryer. Paige's dates usually ended around 11 or so, so she wouldn't be home for a while.

I was wrong. By the time I heard her keys in the front door, my shirt was still in the dryer. I instantly became self-conscious and bolted for the kitchen to recover it. I decided to simply put my shirt on, even if it wasn't dry. I desperately wanted to keep her eyes off my naked chest. I couldn't stand any more of her judgements.

Do you know how hard it is to untwist a wet shirt? When she found me in the kitchen, I was urgently trying to untangle it. I didn't even realize she was behind me until I heard her feet shuffle, and then suddenly stop.

I swung around to find her staring at me open-mouthed. Her wide eyes roamed up and down my body, like she was seeing something that wasn't supposed to be there. I became even more anxious under her eyes, so I just lifted my misshapen shirt to cover my modesty.

"Uhh, hey Paige. How was your night?" I nervously asked, pretending to be casual. What I really wanted was for her to stop looking at me, or to at least say something.

"It was fine." She said slowly, not averting her eyes.

"Uhh, okay." What else could I say?

I felt beads of sweat collecting on my forehead, despite the 70 degrees that was displayed on the thermostat. I could hear her thoughts radiating from her. Her crude comparison to how I didn't measure up to her sex god were in her eyes.

It took every ounce of pride that I had left to not go running from the room. Instead, I held my head high and said, "Well, the kids are in bed. They ate dinner and did their homework. I'll be off now. If you don't mind, I'm gonna use your bathroom before I leave." With that, I rushed from the kitchen.

When I got to the bathroom, I finished getting the shirt untangled. Before I put it on, I got a glimpse in the mirror. Then, my mouth dropped much like Paige's had. What I saw shocked me.

The bathroom in my apartment had a simple mirror outside of the medicine cabinet. It was only adequate in showing just enough to allow you to shave and comb your hair. After my crushing disappointment the last time I stepped on the scale, I was perfectly fine with missing out on whatever my miniscule mirror didn't show me. The last thing I wanted to do was look at myself. I preferred to remain in ignorant bliss. It was safer that way.

But this mirror practically covered the wall above the sink. My entire torso was reflected back to me, and it was enough stop me short.

My chest was separated into two distinct bulges, which made my nipples look less like small breasts. My midsection was slimmer, and the pockets of extra fat that was once sticking out were flattened. My shoulders protruded out. Overall, it looked like my body started small at my waist, and gradually got wider until it reached my shoulders.

The man in the mirror wasn't destined to appear on any fitness magazines, but his body was a far cry from the out of shape one that last appeared. I was looking at a guy who was attractive. And that guy was me.

Was this why Paige was staring at me? She wasn't looking at me in disgust. She was looking at me because she was ATTRACTED TO ME!

That moment, standing in Paige's bathroom, was one of the most iconic in my life. It was the first moment that I actually felt...worthy.

When I left the bathroom, I strolled past her and said, "Alright, Paige. I'm off. You have a good night."

Her eyes lingering on me didn't go unnoticed. This time, I didn't shy away from it. I embraced it, though I pretended like I didn't notice it.

"Uhh, good night Arty." She said in a meek voice

With an extra swagger in my step, I sauntered from her eyesight and closed the front door behind me.

*******

After my "awakening" in Paige's bathroom, I was on the lookout for all the changes that I'd made without realizing it. I was constantly comparing myself to when I first started. Some of them were big things. For instance, I paid more attention to my clothes when I shopped. The collar of my dress shirts didn't fit snuggly around my neck anymore. I also went from a 44 waistline to a 36.

Other things weren't so noticeable, but were still very encouraging. I was able to bend down and get up quicker. I could sit down and tie my shoes without having to spread my legs far apart to accommodate my belly. I could also get in and out of my car without grunting.

Jerry found a rejuvenated Arthur the next time we met. All the fatigue seemed to melt away. The weights felt lighter, the treadmill wasn't such an unslayable dragon and my energy was through the roof.

I found myself constantly looking in the mirror while I was working out. I couldn't tear myself away. During one of my routines, Jerry noticed it and got a kick out of it.

"I see someone finally realized the results of all of his hard work!"

I couldn't help but to laugh. "Okay, you caught me."

"I did. I did. Go on. Have a looksie. Ogle yourself." He made an exaggerated show of stepping to the side to give me a better view. "I'm not in your way, am I handsome?"

"No, you aren't asshole. Thanks for asking, though." I said as I had to stop lifting because I was laughing too hard.

"Anytime, Your Highness. I'm never one to stand in the way of love at first sight.

That was the first time he said "your highness" without the snarky overtone. Joking around with him felt strange, but nice. It was a side that I rarely saw. jUsually he spoke like he loathed my existence. He reminded me of the drill sergeant in "Full Metal Jacket". I half expected him to tell me to lower my neck because I wasn't worth the energy of him raising his hand to choke me.

Another significant change that I noticed once I started paying attention was how people interacted with me. They were more pleasant. They looked at me for a split second longer as they passed me. They even smiled more.

Sounds like bullshit? I would have thought so too before I lost weight. At first I thought it was my imagination. But the more I paid attention to it, the less I couldn't refute it.

Have you ever noticed that attractive people get better treatment? How many times has a pretty woman gotten a "warning" when she was stopped by a traffic cop? Very often; so much so that it's running joke. It's actually proven that better looking people get lighter sentences when they go to court.

Pretty people are even described differently. If a guy is described as a "good guy with a great sense of humor" then he is probably unattractive. If he's attractive, then he is "sexy, funny, and charming". Physical beauty is the difference between having a "great personality" and being "a great catch".

it's astounding how shallow the world is.

Paige was no different. Ever since that night at her house, I found her eyes lingering on me whenever I came over. She smiled more and slowly brushed her hair from her face. Her voice was lighter. She stopped looking at me like she felt sorry for me, and started to treat me with respect.

Everything came to a head on "the anniversary" (separation anniversary, not wedding). I'd previously contacted my lawyer and gave him the green light on getting the paperwork prepared. I wanted it printed and ready so that Paige and I could begin to move on. On the morning of, I swung by and picked them up. I could have had her served, but that felt too impersonal. Paige and I were in a good place, so I figured that there was no need to do that. I felt that the end of our marriage deserved the same respect that the beginning had (at least from me). So, I planned on giving them to her when I went to see the kids that night.

I found her in the upstairs bedroom getting ready for what looked like another date. She was looking in the mirror and putting earrings in. The door was open, so I lightly knocked on the doorframe to let her know I was there.

"Oh, hey Arty." She said as she turned around. She spread her arms and looked at me expectedly before asking, "How do I look?"

"Hey Paige. You look beautiful, but I'm sure you knew that. Going out?"

Her eyes did that roving thing that they'd been doing lately whenever she looked at me. "No, just trying on clothes to see how they fit. You remember this dress?"

I took a moment to really look at it, and then I burst out laughing. "Isn't that the dress I bought you for your birthday - what was it - 8 years ago? "

She smiled brightly and laughed too. "It was 9 years. Remember? I saw it in the window and told you that I liked it. You said that we couldn't afford it, but you neglected to tell me that you got that promotion. Then you surprised me by coming home with it and giving me the news."

"I remember." I said as a nostalgic smile spread across my face. "We went out that night to that new Italian restaurant."

Her eyes disconnected from me as a shy look came across her face. "That's also the night we conceived the twins."

Pleasant memories swarmed me. I remembered being intertwined in her arms for the rest of that night. With as much sex as we had that night, there was no way for her to not get pregnant.

Suddenly those blissful memories morphed into something wicked, wiping the smile from my face. I saw me, fumbling around between her legs, desperately trying to please a woman who was barely awake. Then I disappeared from that picture altogether and another man replaced me. I didn't remember what Derrick looked like (I hadn't seen him since that day), but his likeness will forever haunt me. Suddenly, he began thrusting into her, causing screams of pleasure to escape her.

The entire mood of the room changed. Elephants the size of bulldozers cursed us for ignoring them. With a shake of my head, I snapped out of my reverie and coolly said, "I have something for you." With that I dropped the manila envelope on the bed.

When she looked at it, her face darkened. "Wow. You didn't waste any time getting that whipped up, did you?"

"Well, I did take an entire year..." I joked in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood. I expected a laugh, a smile, or something. Instead, she just turned back to the mirror with a blank expression as if the papers weren't important.

"I'll look at them when I get a chance." She said in a deadpanned voice, as if she were shooing me off.

I silently left the room. Her reaction was puzzling. I didn't expect a parade, but I at least thought she'd be happy to get this process started.

I went to search for the twins. The first one I found was Josh, who was playing video games in his room.

"Tell me you have your homework done." I said sternly after clearing my throat to get his attention. He quickly whipped his head around in my direction. His open-mouthed face and jumpy reaction forecasted his guilt, even before he opened his mouth to speak.