Aberration ≫ Jarchie

S E V E N T Y - T W O

Twenty Years Old ❣︎ September

His tears drip down his face with unforeseen purpose as he stands in front of the tall mirror and traces every detail of his body with wet, wide eyes.

He just never actually thought...

He takes a deep breath and continues staring, his thoughts laced with an array of emotions he can't even begin to convey, so he chooses to cry instead.

He chooses to cry instead. That's new.

Jughead woke up this morning with a heavy heart, something he can only describe as one of his bad days. Granted, he hasn't had a bad day in a while. A few years ago they were far more common, far more weighted, and far more scary but today it lacks the usually intensity. Today he gets out of the bed, stands in front of the mirror, and stares.

He stares because the person reflected in the cheap glass isn't the same Jughead he once knew. He's not the same Jughead who forcefully shoved piles of problems into the alleyways of his mind. He's not the same Jughead who was so innocent in nature, back when he couldn't associate the tangy smell of liquor to his father and when sharing words with his mother wasn't a rarity. He's not the same Jughead who sat back and took beatings from Reggie daily. He's not the same Jughead who would sulk on the couch for hours in complete silence as shipments of negative thoughts made themselves at home in his head, planning on staying. He's changed, and although he used to never particular enjoy change he's glad he changed.

Today, the world feels cold but he feels warm. Today he sits in silence but is overcome with realization.

He's happy with who he is.

Six words, 7 syllables, 19 words. Although the statement doesn't look like much, it means so much. It means so much that it brought him to tears, and if that doesn't demonstrate how much he's changed then he doesn't know what will.

A few years ago the world felt so small, and he felt so hopeless. A few years ago he didn't understand why he was even worth-

It's overwhelming.

Today he stops and takes a second to look, really look, at the person he's becoming and he can't help but to feel proud of himself.

He's proud of himself.

Four words, 5 syllables, 17 letters. A statement he usually never ever thinks.

A few years ago he was scribbling in a battered down journal about how lost he was and now he's entering his third year of NYU with some of the greatest friends he could've asked for, his amazing boyfriend, and a completed book he wrote thats been sitting neglected in his computer since May.

Today he realizes that he's changed, but he also realizes the answer to a question he's been asking himself for months now.

Is he finally going to take a leap of faith and publish the novel he's spent the last two years of his life writing between classes, random adventures, spring breaks, Christmas breaks, summer breaks, and arduous work out sessions that he hates?

Somehow, sitting in that mirror, every Jughead he has ever been came to the final conclusion. Little Jughead with Archie's makeshift flower crown on his head, middle school Jughead hugging his mother and sister goodbye, high school Jughead crying on the janitor floor, they all unanimously agree.