Reflection.

As I stood there looking back at my reflection, the girl I saw was smiling, well there was a smile on her face. It was a smile for the outsiders to see but it didn't quite meet her eyes, it didn't quite make me believe it. Her face paler than it used to be, her eyes looked tired.

Her eyes told the story of a lost girl, she was so sure before but now she didn't know if she would ever feel sure again. She use to smile at stringers in the street now she walks with her face down hiding in the shadows hoping no one will notice her. She always knew life wasn't easy or fair now she had seen the full extent of this! The scars may not be visible to the outside world but her eyes were a doorway to the truth.

Some days, good days, she would just feel numb like there was no more feeling to feel, others, bad days, she would feel ever muscle moving in order for her to take her next breathe. She would feel the blood run through her veins as her heart beat, with every beat trying to fix itself. Screaming his name, quieter now than before, it's like a background noise to her now. She hardly hears it, but she knows it's there and when she does happen to catch the screams she feels the raw pain of lying in the hospital bed all over again. Even with a thousand nurses and visitors she felt so alone, so scared. No one knew, everyone commented on how brave she was, how 'well' she was doing. Funny how easy it is to perform off stage. Truth be told she was doing 'well' because if she stopped performing for even a second she would feel all the hurt, all the guilt, all the truth about the situation. She didn't want to!

She scared herself that week, she didn't know she could do that. She didn't know she could perform so well. She even managed to believe it herself at times. She wasn't in control of the situation but she was taking back some of the control; she had to have some sort of control. All her plans had failed and the backup plan she formed she wasn't happy with but she didn't see another alterative, they'd both agreed it wasn't all her fault, she knew that. It was easier to blame herself though. She could cope with the hurt, he was already falling apart. She had to cope with the hurt, he could not. Even now he wasn't coping as well as her. He was there for her when she had crumbled and her walls surrounding her had collapsed and now it was her turn to be there for him. She could do this. If only her eyes would stop giving her away.

She didn't make eye contact anymore, it was a rule she had developed without realising it but she hated to look into others eyes, she felt like they could hear the screams of her heart, the scars on her womb, where he had lay peacefully for all those months. They were for her only. They were her secrets. The worst part was when people would say 'they couldn't imagine what she was going through but ...' and then compare it to themselves and their life or experience's, did they not see how their sentence didn't make scene form the start? She could try and tell them how it felt but she wouldn't want them to feel it. She could listen to what they have to say but she doesn't want to and it would usually end with 'you can get over this'!! Really?! She can't imagine 'getting over it' and she doesn't want to - 'it' was part of her and always would be until they could be together again, it would happen one day. They just didn't get it, she hoped they never would.

Sometimes for a moment she would forget that it had all happened and feel him inside her, or hold her belly as though holding him, even feeling her breasts ache as though they we changing, then as fast as she forgot, she would remember her mind was playing tricks on her and her body was joining in. part of her thought it was to give her a break, the other an evil game they were playing.

As every milestone passes she still expects the outcome, knowing it won't happen doesn't seem to be enough. She often wonders if this is it for her, if the rest of her life will follow counting down to every mile stone. A constant timer in the back of her mind like a bomb waiting to explode, maybe it would just be muffled and quiet rather than loud and disruptive. She didn't really know what to expect any more, it was expecting things that lead to this. Now it was better to expect nothing and receive something than the pain she felt expecting something and it being stolen from her. She had always been a dreamer but now it seemed pointless and childish. She knew they would never come true. She didn't believe in fairy tales anymore, her happily ever after had be taken from her, there was no going back. This wasn't what dreams were made of.

What hurts the most is that walking down the street while people look and see her smiling, is that they don't know, they don't see the lost girl, the lonely girl walking with her arms empty, slimmer than she has been in years. They didn't see that, they didn't know. Part of her was glad they didn't know that they didn't see.

The truth is she lost the one thing she has wanted her whole life, well as long as she can remember and now she walk with thousands but still completely alone! She will always be alone, it's only her who feels this way, and everyone else has the same ending but a different start and a different middle. Their stories vary as do there emotions and achievement's. Some stories settle in to daily life and stay in a chapter of a person's life; others stop their story so it can't continue leaving it unfinished; some, like her, continue to walk through life hand in hand with their story beside them, taking each new day as a new step. A new page of a book.

As I stood there looking back at my reflection, the girl I saw was smiling.