Looking into the mirror I saw the tiny aspects of beauty in her eyes and the breathtaking courage standing out the image of her choppy short hair and it was at that very moment that I notice what potential and what self-respect this woman had for herself. I see the crack of a smile appear across her face, aligning up just perfectly a little ways below her pupils. As I study the woman's face, I notice how imperfect she is in so many ways. Starting from the slight moments of worried expressions, a wrinkled forehead and continuing onto the small perfectly bow-shaped lips. My fascination increased as I continued to study her. I was becoming more aware of the smaller picture than of broadening my view to the general image of this woman.
I saw her gently rub her eyes as if she had just awaken, but it seemed to not alarm her of how she looked. The azure eyes is what hooked my attention. I couldn't get over the thought of how complex ones eye could be. So wondrously blue with a thicker and darker ring of blue around it and still it did not phase her of her beauty. I wanted to speak up and tell her how much I see in her, but my words were choked up in my throat as it felt I swallowed a frog, and I was frightened that I wouldn’t be able to grab hold of the woman and miss my chance before someone slowly pulls her to the center of the earth and... I would never be able to save her.
I couldn't initially see the worry, the stress, the harm, the pain, and I looked through it as I would look through fish tank. I didn't let the outside image of this woman affect my thoughts at all and that is why I continued to ponder thoughts and scenarios of this woman. It was until I came across her in the morning that I truly felt what she had been feeling for a stretched amount of time. Loneliness covered up by laughter.
...I wanted to do something sporadic! I wanted to scream all what was released from my lungs and shout like the woman had gone missing, but I was held back by a stronger and more defensible force... Life. Yet, I wanted to save this woman. I was thriving to stop this woman from repeatedly walking into the world with a fake smile to cover up what she truly felt. Every single moment, she walked outside with the dreamlike smile and the feeling of walking off a never ending cliff.
I took one step back. Something that startled me the most was that I was standing in my own bathroom. I felt deep breathing swirling up in my lungs and the tingling shakes as if I just used a power washer in my hands and arms. I put my own moist and shaky hands onto my face tracing the shape of my face, my nose, my eyes, and my perfectly bow-like lips. The crack of a smile dawned on myself. That woman was me. All along I was face to face with the bathroom mirror. The most beautiful smile was in myself. ~
