As I sit here, laying in bed, tears gently crossing paths with my cheeks, lips and neck.. I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve been this honest with myself.
People commend me for my strength: physical and emotional. Little do they know that these muscles are showing from my last workout, three months ago. My appeared emotional strength is from the invisible wall I’ve put up. And I’m not even sure what I’m doing anymore.
I appreciate the compliments in the moment. But they bottle up to mean so much more. I’m a fake. And a good one at that. I’m so good at blinding the world that when I look at my reflection, I blind myself. It’s like facing two mirrors together with a single light dividing them. All you see when you look one direction is miles of blinding lights reflecting back at you. Whats real? Which is reality?
Who am I anymore.
Love until later,