Unpretty

Unpretty - 4

This isn’t real. I should be pretty now.

I should look normal.  This is not what I should look like.

Anger. Denial. Self-Pity.  It overcame me like a violent hurricane.

The cycle was tiring,  I hated it.

I felt it immensely that it obliterated any sense of logical thinking.

And oh, the never ending self-pity.  I thought I’d escape it but here it is, still mocking me.

Before I knew it, unwanted tears came gushing from my eyes. 

It soaked the gauze and few bandages made to cover the few uhealed areas of my face.

No consoling can ever stop the pain.

They talked to me, asked me questions, tried to comfort me

But I sat motionless and did nothing but cry until they all just left and turned off the lights.

More tears came endlessly as I was left alone in my room. 

Leave me, let me be alone as I have been all my life.

Let me weep for my defeat.   Let me wallow in my stupidity.

Why have I thought that a surgery would make everything better?

Why hadn’t I thought about the possibilities?

A failed surgery was the finality of it all.

Maybe there’s nothing more I could do but accept this face I have.

Deal with it 'til I die.

But I couldn't accept that.

No.  This isn’t the end. 

I stood pacing in my light deprived room.

I won't allow it to be the end of me.

I’ve accepted defeat all my life, what better time to laugh at defeat in his face but now.

There is a way.

Another surgery would be plausible.  Isn't it?

These doctors don’t know anything.  There’s bound to be someone who can fix my face.

That’s right. Another Surgery.

And at last I smiled.

With these thoughts swirling in my head,I stumbled unto my bed and finally fell asleep.

I wanted to leave this place as soon as the next day but the doctors wouldn’t allow me.

My stitches aren’t all that healed and the pain I’m feeling have not disappeared completely.

I still felt a throbbing in my head.  My face didn’t feel like it was on fire, rather I felt that there were ants crawling over it.  It was itchy as hell.

And so here I’ll stay for months until my face is completely healed.

But my mind isn’t in this place anymore.

Inside my head I’m scheming.

Find a new doctor and get your face fixed I tell myself repeatedly.

Never mind that the doctors here explained to you it’s fatal to undergo another surgery.

Never mind that the doctors and the nurses told you that you look better.

I know what I look like, it’s better alright..

But it’s not enough.