[Drabble] How to Disappear
Title: How to Disappear
Author: Jie Jie
Rating: PG
Pairing: Colin/Deb
Word Count: 300
Summary: Deb's POV. An angsty little drabble inspired by Amanda Dalton's poem of the same name. "I could tell myself it was just a phase...I was wrong."
I can pinpoint the day that my husband began to disappear. It was a cold, bright day in November when it happened. I went out to do some Christmas shopping and when I came back, he wasn't quite my Colin any more. When I walked through that door I caught a glimpse of him looking empty and broken and so desolate my heart ached. He put on a quick smile and I could tell myself I'd imagined it. He said he was fine in a tone too forced and brittle, an obvious lie, but I let it slide.
How I wish I hadn't.
He started eating less, much less. Another thing I let pass without comment. He'd battled with weight before so I could tell myself it was just a phase. I was pleased when he could fit into a pair of jeans he'd bought twenty years ago, less pleased when even those became too big. While my husband starved I fed myself the convenient lie that he'd snap out of it by Christmas.
But I was wrong.
In early December things got worse. The silences began to stretch out between us. He stopped talking, not just to me but to friends, family, not even Luke could prise more than a few syllables from him. But Colin has always been a quiet man so I could tell myself maybe it was just a case of the holiday blues.
You stupid girl.
By the time I realised this wasn't going away he was too far gone for me to reach. Not for lack of trying. I've never felt more hopeless. I reasoned and screamed and pleaded but there was no reaction.
Too late.
He left while I was sleeping. I've called everyone, looked everywhere, but it seems he's learned how to
disappear.
Author: Jie Jie
Rating: PG
Pairing: Colin/Deb
Word Count: 300
Summary: Deb's POV. An angsty little drabble inspired by Amanda Dalton's poem of the same name. "I could tell myself it was just a phase...I was wrong."
I can pinpoint the day that my husband began to disappear. It was a cold, bright day in November when it happened. I went out to do some Christmas shopping and when I came back, he wasn't quite my Colin any more. When I walked through that door I caught a glimpse of him looking empty and broken and so desolate my heart ached. He put on a quick smile and I could tell myself I'd imagined it. He said he was fine in a tone too forced and brittle, an obvious lie, but I let it slide.
How I wish I hadn't.
He started eating less, much less. Another thing I let pass without comment. He'd battled with weight before so I could tell myself it was just a phase. I was pleased when he could fit into a pair of jeans he'd bought twenty years ago, less pleased when even those became too big. While my husband starved I fed myself the convenient lie that he'd snap out of it by Christmas.
But I was wrong.
In early December things got worse. The silences began to stretch out between us. He stopped talking, not just to me but to friends, family, not even Luke could prise more than a few syllables from him. But Colin has always been a quiet man so I could tell myself maybe it was just a case of the holiday blues.
You stupid girl.
By the time I realised this wasn't going away he was too far gone for me to reach. Not for lack of trying. I've never felt more hopeless. I reasoned and screamed and pleaded but there was no reaction.
Too late.
He left while I was sleeping. I've called everyone, looked everywhere, but it seems he's learned how to
disappear.