She stepped away to get another cigarette. I walked back to the mirror as I saw her take a deep drag. I feltthe rich hit of the nicotine. I watched...her blow out the smoke.I noticed my hair. Exaggertedly blown out and teased, it was sofull. This was me. I was tired, hungry, confused. I am Suzanne. But I wasstill me. It was more significant this third time because it all felt so muchmore familiar now. Besides, I had no choice now. In spite of allresponsible, rational considerations, I. Something about me being too heavy.I knew something was up. After thirty years of marriage you really get to know your spouse. I knew her so well that I could tell you when she needed to take a shit. Everything about her had changed. Not just her looks but now her personality that I loved so much. I think her view of me changed as well. It was as though she had been blinded to my looks but now she had been given sight. Instead of the short pudgy little husband, I was the short fat balding man. More

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