Letter to self

    When I look in the mirror I'm not sure what I see. I look as I did the day before, but I feel different. Everyday, I feel that things are changing. And it is just too soon to tell if it is for better or worse. I want to stand up and make a difference, if not for someone else then at lest for me. I want to be my own hero. I'm tired of leaning on someone else. But I' so afraid of what I see in the mirror.

    I'm getting older now. And I'm starting to feel it. Not in my bones, but in the fabric and tissue of my being. I have to stop and think now, instead of simply dashing across the street. And colors, they seem so blurred, pink and red so much the same. I've gotten uncomfortably used to my short comings. And am terrified of the need to change. What if I can't? What if this is the best that I can do? What will become of me then?

    I don't want to lose. Now more then ever I have something to lose. I have him. Wonderful, understanding, kind, considerate, brave, determined, hilarious, tender, him. What if I can never become more then this mere outline of a woman? Could he love that? Can I love that? I'm so afraid of what I see in the mirror.

    It's so hard to look, to see myself beneath all the things I keep up. And it's frightening to confront that little girl, her long wheaten hair falling about her face in feather light curls. She was so beautiful with her chubby, rosie cheeks and her big blue eyes. What happened to her? How did she ever end up so far from where she wanted to be? Why is she hiding underneath all these silly facades? Every glimpse of her is tragic. A painful twist of a blade scraping down my spine. Tears run down my face, down the cheeks that I only just now feel as though I've grown into.

    I'm afraid to look in the mirror. What if I hate me? What if I really hate me? I've made so many bad choices. What if the out come is that I hate who I have become? I just want to have worth. I no longer have any dreams. If I could have a book shelf, and somehow be worth the love and adoration I see in his eyes, that would be enough.

    But what if I'm just too much of a coward? What if I'm just too late? I'm so very afraid to look in the mirror. I want there to be a reason for all the foolish things I've done. I want to know what the lesson is from all the pain I've lead myself into. If I can understand how it makes me stronger, better, then I can embrace it. But all I know is that I'm afraid to look in the mirror.