Nostalgia

Showers & Tears & the Inability to Cry

I tipped my head back against the boat and soaked in the sunlight, relishing in the feel of the warmth on my skin. It was almost as if the light from the sun was humming inside of me. With my feet dipped in the cold, refreshing water and Lana del Rey playing in the background, there was no place I'd rather be. 

Except I wasn't there. 

No, I was in the freezing cold basement of my house, watching one of the most boring shows on television I had ever seen, and wanting - but not trying - to change my life. Most of the time, I found myself wasting away the days by thinking of places I would go in the future. Eventually, I thought, I would be traveling the world, getting tan and beautiful in far off places. 

But, with the way things were going now, I didn't expect that to happen. How are things going now, you ask? Let me tell you. 

I'm utterly obsessed with Doctor Who, Sherlock, and Harry Potter. They have all saved my life at some point or another and continue to do so. I'm stressed beyond belief because of school and friends and actually having to be a functioning human being. That bit can be pretty hard sometimes. 

My life is pretty good. I only just turned fifteen, I have a good family who supports me, a nice house, and books past any need. I should have been happy all of the time, because I had absolutely no reason to be otherwise, right? 

Wrong.

Sighing, I dragged myself out of the comfortable bean bag that had, as of late, become my haven. From there, I could watch Doctor Who, Sherlock, and Harry Potter to my hearts content. There, I didn't have to worry about anything else. I could ignore school and drown out my insecurities with the sound of the TARDIS flying into action. 

Once I was finally up, I went up two half-flights of stairs to the shower. That was my second place of refuge; warm water (or cold, depending on how I was feeling), getting clean, and simply being by myself. Besides, everyone knows how showers are - the place where you think up all the solutions for the problems in your life. You spend more time thinking than you actually do washing. 

I got undressed in the bathroom and let my clothes pool on the floor. The cold air made goosebumps rise on my skin. I stepped into the shower and closed the curtain around me, then turned the tap on. I don't know why - it's rare that I do - but I wanted to cry. The urge was so strong just to let everything out. All my frustrations and insecurities and worries. The fact that I didn't even know why I wanted to cry only made me want to cry more. 

But I couldn't. It was all bottle up inside and the lid was on too tight. No tears, no stupid blubbering, nothing. Well, what the hell was I supposed to do now? 

The only plausible thing to do is what people actually do in showers - getting clean. I poured shampoo into my hands, then scrubbed it into my hair. Once I washed that out, in goes the conditioner. I always left the conditioner in for longer than necessary, thinking it would maybe make my hair softer. 

Smoothing my hair back, I ducked under the shower to wash the conditioner out. Normally I didn't go all the way under - I didn't like getting my eyes wet - but I did today. I let the water pour over me and drip down my closed eyes. Maybe I couldn't cry, but the shower could for me. It was sort of a strange thought, an inanimate object doing things I was supposed to do, but there it was. 

Once the shower was done, I got out and went into my room to dry off and get dressed. I pulled on a sports bra and my (quite childish, yes, but there you go) Nightmare Before Christmas underwear. Maybe I just didn't want to grow up. Then I pulled on my leggings and Harry Potter shirt, which I had recently just gotten for my birthday. 

I went back to the bathroom and brushed my hair, putting coconut oil in it as well. I really wanted my hair to be soft, if you couldn't tell already. After that, I rubbed my arms with a raspberry and strawberry smelling lotion and put a tiny bit on my dry face as well. I know it's oily and I probably shouldn't, but, to be completely honest, I didn't care. To top it off, I sprayed myself with a flower-smelling body spray. I was just a concoction of good-smelling things.

It helped sometimes, to pamper yourself, even in the smallest of ways.