Comfort
You look at yourself in the mirror and sigh. Nothing seems to fit right on you. The shirt would suit someone skinnier. Your hair is coarse, bland and made your face look too chubby. Your eyes are nothing special. The mirror reflects you as less than ordinary.
You glance over at your dresser. On it, is a picture of you and your boyfriend smiling together at your one year anniversary. You hate your smile. Your eyes squint too much creating creases. Your teeth aren't straight enough and could do with some whitening. Everything about you just seems below standard.
As your eyes shift to your boyfriend's face, a small sob escapes your lips. He is the definition of perfect. His dark brown hair is bouncy and soft. It fell just right no matter which way he styled it. His chestnut colored eyes sparkled with joy when he smiled. They spoke a language all of their own that only you could understand. His smile is big and white. His teeth are straight, which made his smile even more beautiful. The tan of his skin looked as if the sun blessed him with a kiss. Every feature complimented each other. He looks as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo while you were a three year old's art project. He was the sun shining brightly while you were his shadow. He was everything while you were nothing.
How had you been so blind? You don't deserve perfection. Tears sprang to your eyes, and suddenly, the rainforest's downpour couldn't compare to the tears rolling down your face. A loud cry escapes your mouth as you fell to the floor. Your knees are pulled to your chest. Hands run through and grasp at your hair. Snot is rubbed against the shirt you are wearing. Chest gasping for breath as another round of wails left your lips, you cry your eyes out.
After crying so hard, you are left completely exhausted. Sleep took you before you could shed more tears.
You woke with start on the floor of your room. The mirror capturing a very frightening image. It is you. Your eyes are rimmed red and tear stains trace down your cheek. If your hair was messy before, it looked hideous now. The clothes you wore had wrinkled as you slept. Picking yourself off the floor, you head towards the bathroom. A hot shower would help anything.
The water washes away the sting in your eyes. The thoughts that haunted you earlier that day still press into your mind, and you do everything in your power to push them away. You will not cry. It is not an option right now. By the time you step out of the shower, the water had washed the tear stains from your cheeks and untangled your hair. While getting dressed, a ding sounds from your nightstand. The phone that rests there lit up with a text message. Finishing getting dressed first, you glide over to the phone. On the screen is a message from your boyfriend.
Babe: "Hey, do you want to come over?"
You: "I kinda just wanted to hang out here right now."
Babe: "Then I'll come to you."
You: "No. I just want to be alone. "
Babe: "Is something wrong?"
A sigh escapes your lips as you thought about telling him, but then decided against it. He doesn't need to worry about your problems right now. He is always busy and deserves to live without having to try to cheer you up.
You: "No. I'm just reeeaaally lazy."
Babe: "Please, baby. I miss you."
