The reflection looking back at me

Have you ever found yourself battling to find the words to even describe how the hell are you?

What is it that you’re feeling? Please, don’t ask me anymore… it’s going to take quite some time, a very long story. Besides, are you seriously telling me that you’re going to understand?

Okay, your choice.

Another day has come. Not that I particularly care; I’ve just woken up involuntarily from a deep sleep, that is just soothing. See, I always had trouble shutting down my brain. Sleep is my escape from my own hell.

I manage to open up my eyes and stare blankly either at the pillow or at the ceiling. That’s it now, I only just stare. I have to get up, but I don’t want to. No hassling around, no chores, no working. I don’t want to do any of that – I just go to the bathroom instead. I wash my face, and there it is.

I’m looking at a reflection I don’t recognize anymore.

Who is she?

I stare at her even more; pale, brown hair and dark brown eyes. She blinks, and all I can see is that she’s exhausted. She blinks again, and then I look deeper. What word can describe it? I can’t find anyone that might fit.

I still look at her as she blinks, nothing. You know what? That’s it, nothing. It’s just emptiness, the one that comes after mere and utter exhaustion. It’s the one that gives you the numb feeling, a look that no one ever can describe. But then I look even closer, and I see pain. I see disappointment. I see lost hope.

What do I do now, huh? What do I even say to her? From the look she gives me, I know. I instantly recognize that I can’t say anything to her anymore. Not the classic phrases, not even the simplest “you’ll be fine”.

She may be one day; but you’ve probably understood by now that these are just words, words with a general meaning and assumption that don’t suit her. After all, she doesn’t need them anyway.

The reflection on the mirror is real now; she is -let’s say- fully functioning. Or is it just survival? The second. The second says it right. She sits on the couch now; she pretends to watch a television series. She looks at the clock straight across from her. Time can be a very funny concept sometimes, or even the biggest bitch some other times.

She just stays there. After all, it is better than going out; the weird looks of people, the endless nonsense justifications that she has to come up with to explain why she is like that… it is really necessary? She doesn’t even want to look people in the eyes. What is there to say? No no, it’s better at home.

Better with silence – it doesn’t give pointless advice. Because silence understands, and doesn’t expect anything from her, besides one thing. It just demands from her to feel the pain; and then it gives her a break. These two go together whether she likes it or not, and in one way she guesses that this is alright.

Are you going to tell her not to cry, not to be like this, now? Please, go; there is nothing you can do. You just want her to mask what she’s feeling; you are afraid of her tears. You’re afraid of feeling desperate, you’re afraid of feeling hopeless and disappointed. You’re even afraid of her and the truth she speaks. But it’s there, no matter how much you want to deny it – I’m sorry.

All I see is someone who is tired of fighting alone. I see a person disappointed by people, justifications, excuses and screwed up situations. I see a character believing in things and values that people don’t cherish anymore. I see a being, trying to find the strength without even knowing if it is there anymore. I see her trying to fix her mistakes, the ones she made because she’s not perfect – and she doesn’t have to be. She just tries to get better every single day.

As I go to look at her in the mirror one more time, I realize that she is afraid. Afraid of the hell drowning her and absorb like ever before. She wants still to believe in the good of people, and not to be afraid of them. But wanting simply doesn’t do the trick, my friend.

You see, with every screwed up situation she comes across she ends up doubting how people can be. She doesn’t understand them sometimes, why do what they do. Or why they create hells and nightmares … the biggest traps that ever existed.

So yeah, you asked and I replied – I’m not expecting you to understand.
Only people like her can do so.

But sorry, I’ve got to leave now; you see, that reflection standing there needs my help.
And I’m the only one who can bring her back up.