I step into the shower to wash away the scent of a night at the bar. The hot water cascades around me, and I
Look in the shaving mirror and see someone beautiful, lips full and cheekbones abrasive. In my mind, my life is much more dramatic. Me, such a non-dramatic person. I have feelings and issues that are life-changing, but I can't explain them to anyone around me, for fear of judgment and reprisal.
In reality, I see tired blue eyes, possibly more gray than blue, ready for bed, with deep impressions underneath, which should melt away with the morning.
In my mind, I have 2 options, one more interesting than the first, possibly, but even less realistic than those options available in real life. I see adventure, desires, fulfillment, everything, all divided into two.
In reality, I see 2 options as well, one conquering all, the other stifling. I feel the eventuality of alone, alone, alone.
Or have I just been reading too much Sylvia Plath? (Always a reason, ne?)
I step out of the shower and hold the towel to my face, breathing in the scent of fabric softener, clean again.
