Never Let Them Define You

THE MESSY THINGS IN LIFE

Her eyes shoot open as she wakes up on the bed next to the man she met yesterday, then holds her face and stares wide-eyed at the rising sun through the window. Jesus Christ, I'm a fucking slut. She hunches over and holds her sides, then rushes over to the sink as her whole body trembles, and she washes her face. She stares at herself in the mirror, unflinching and terrified, and then slaps herself. What have you DONE? You've made a terrible mistake, you lowly piece of filth, you scum, you, you CRETIN.

I should have never left my mother's womb just to be an unfaithful whore. God, I'm such a dolt, I let my emotions get the better of me, and I just ran off into the sunset with my heart in my hand and my brain by the wayside. I shouldn't even meet my mother, I should kill myself, so that she won't have to endure the displeasure of seeing her disgrace of a daughter's face EVER AGAIN!

"Are you okay?" asks the man groggily.

"NO! I am not okay! I cannot believe that I slept with you!"

"Wait, what?" He rubs his eyes and blinks a few times. "Something wrong with me? I thought we had a nice time..."

Her face twists and she scowls, then turns back to the mirror, and pulls on her eyelids. "Nothing's wrong with you, agh! I'm just a fucking slut!" She turns around and shakes her arms in the air. "I have a man at home who's very good and...and I don't need to be sleeping with men like you, but I did because I'm a motherless piece of shit who doesn't know how to be happy!" She shrieks and pulls on her hair as she begins to pace around the room and flail her arms about wildly. "I'm a piece of shit! I said it! I suck, I'm terrible, I'm awful, and I'm not good enough for anyone!! You know why I slept with you? Because I hate myself!

"I hate myself so much that I'd sleep with anyone who adores me, anyone who serves me, and anyone else! I-" she lets out a high-pitched hum, before screaming "I'M FUCKING WORTHLESS!!! I don't care what you think about me, or my fans, or anyone else! I might as well die by a million causes and never have my body found! I'll be burned, hanged, shot, and I still won't be happy because it wasn't enough to make me feel like I've gotten what I deserve! GOD! Here I am, screaming at a man I just slept with, who's name I don't even know, and making the whole train wake up at 8:30 in the morning!" She collapses to the floor and lays with her limbs outstretched.

"Brian."

"What?" she whimpers.

"My name is Brian."

"Well, great...that's, that's great."

"And I don't think that you're a piece of shit."

"Well, that's great, Brian."

"And I know you think that I don't know you, but I think I do."

"And what would you know about me, Brian...?"

He sighs. "I know that you're very powerful, but you're also very sensitive."

She scoffs and rolls over on her side, then looks up at him with her hands like a pillow under her face. "Sensitive?"

"Well, you're very presumptuous, not in a bad way, but it shows that you have a good sense of what people are thinking."

"I guess...I think I use that for my art, to help me relate to people."

"Makes sense...I also know that you're hilarious and you care a lot."

"I literally cut up my mother's wedding dress."

"Would you do it now?"

"No...why does that matter?"