Confused
There were things that knew Ali's secrets. She didn't spill her heart and thoughts into a diary; that would be silly, because no matter how well she thought it might be hidden she knew it would be found. Darkness had born witness to more than one bout of tears she would vehemently deny, the wind had carried away more than one secret in a sigh, and sunlight had banished a great deal to the shadows. Mirrors knew most of all; Ali often spent stolen moments sitting and watching herself in them--not out of any sort of vanity, but in the hopes that her reflected self would be so kind as to explain things.
Her other self has yet to be obliging, but Ali lives in hope.
This morning found her staring into the mirror, searching for something she'd caught a glimpse of while brushing her hair. There was nothing unfamiliar in the construction of her face; her skin remained as smooth as ever, her eyes remained gray, and her teeth were still straight and white. She could find no sign of either having gained or lost weight. Everything appeared to be the same as it ever was; the same as it would be for a very long time yet. But even as she searched, she knew that it was something deeper. What she was looking for might not even be there; in her mind, she knew it wasn't--but she had taken to heart an implication otherwise.
Damaged. Despite all evidence to the contrary, she was beginning to believe she was damaged. She knew intellectually that the source must be considered, and quickly rejected as someone who did not know enough about such matters to be worth such concern. There had been a time she could remember when that would be enough: her heart and her head would be in agreement, and she would leave such nonsense behind without a second thought. But the two had been growing apart. What she knew she could not always feel.
Was this how ordinary people lived? Ali didn't want to imagine enduring it much longer, and certainly not for a lifetime. The inability to find reconciliation was more than puzzling; it was beginning to cripple her. She found herself hesitating where she never had before, or pausing for thought and reflection for which she did not always have time. Ali had no time for these things--but she neither had answers.
The path to reconciliation remained obscure, as she turned away from the mirror to try and focus on other things. Until she could find it, she was doomed to continuing, perfectly normal, confusion.
Her other self has yet to be obliging, but Ali lives in hope.
This morning found her staring into the mirror, searching for something she'd caught a glimpse of while brushing her hair. There was nothing unfamiliar in the construction of her face; her skin remained as smooth as ever, her eyes remained gray, and her teeth were still straight and white. She could find no sign of either having gained or lost weight. Everything appeared to be the same as it ever was; the same as it would be for a very long time yet. But even as she searched, she knew that it was something deeper. What she was looking for might not even be there; in her mind, she knew it wasn't--but she had taken to heart an implication otherwise.
Damaged. Despite all evidence to the contrary, she was beginning to believe she was damaged. She knew intellectually that the source must be considered, and quickly rejected as someone who did not know enough about such matters to be worth such concern. There had been a time she could remember when that would be enough: her heart and her head would be in agreement, and she would leave such nonsense behind without a second thought. But the two had been growing apart. What she knew she could not always feel.
Was this how ordinary people lived? Ali didn't want to imagine enduring it much longer, and certainly not for a lifetime. The inability to find reconciliation was more than puzzling; it was beginning to cripple her. She found herself hesitating where she never had before, or pausing for thought and reflection for which she did not always have time. Ali had no time for these things--but she neither had answers.
The path to reconciliation remained obscure, as she turned away from the mirror to try and focus on other things. Until she could find it, she was doomed to continuing, perfectly normal, confusion.