A Few Years Ago..

She.

Everyday, I see a certain woman. She looks so miserable- - hair all tangled up, her face lined with pain and with eyes expressing fatigue and loneliness. She probably was once a very cheerful and free spirited young girl, but looking at her now, there’s not a sign she ever was such a person. Her eyes look as if they’re always close to tears; somewhat begging for something that’s deprived of her.  I can hardly see any trace of bliss on her face, only a melancholic expression that gives away her genuine feeling of distress. She looks as if she’s standing on a borderline between sanity and madness.

Once in a while we would glance at each other, study one another’s features for a few seconds and then move on. But despite the remoteness of us being able to talk, she’s grown eerily familiar to me. There’s a faint trace of someone I used to know when I look at her face. She hardly ever smiles, but if she would, she’d probably remind me of who she was.

At times I would catch her crying, her eyes all puffed up with tears. I would see her trembling with uncontrollable anguish, but even during those times, she would not speak. I feel so attached to her that there is no need for words to be spoken for me to feel her pain. And I know that if she could, she’d cry out all her agonies and pluck out the thorn that’s throbbing in her heart… But you see, this woman won’t let up. She’s probably scared shit nobody would understand. I can tell she’s doubtlessly been rejected before and so she chooses to exist as a mere shadow in the dark, to swallow every jagged pill that life gives her. She’s keeping it all in and while she tries so hard to be a freakin’ golden girl, she knows she’s crushing the life out of herself. It’s pathetic, but that’s how she lives it out everyday.     

If I could, I would scorn her for letting herself down. I would lambaste her for trying so hard to make everybody else happy except herself. I’d certainly lash at her for depriving herself of self love…but I can’t. I know she won’t take it. I know she’s too weak to fight it out without breaking down in tears. She’s too vulnerable to pain…too fainthearted. She breaks me into pieces when I see her that way. I hate the feeling.  I know this all too well…You see, she’s the person I don’t want to see but she’s also the same person staring back when I look in the mirror everyday…she’s none other than me.

Rogue21