Pretty For A Day

I woke up this morning and lifted my head from the pillow,

stretched out my arms, pointed my toes to the wall, inhaled deeply, and felt a wave of chills awake every nerve in my body.

My feet carried me to the mirror where I stared a while and felt my heart start to destabilize.

I pulled my hair behind my ears and rubbed my eyes.

I reached for my untouched bag of tools and prepared to endure the long process of curling my eyelashes, my hair, and my smile.

Finishing by painting a soft shade of pink on my lips.

I smoothed my hands over the wrinkles of my dress, slipped on some shoes, and locked the door behind me.

As I strolled around town from place to place with rehearsed confidence, I embraced every compliment with humility and a "thank you," getting higher every time I saw someone turn their head.

Attention had never been more appealing.

After a long day of being showered with positivity, I headed home.

I unraveled the costume I displayed all day and felt relief with the reveal.

The reflection of my dark pupils in the glass in front of me made me uneasy, as if they really are the windows to my soul.

I lie my head on the pillow with a shaky smile and I remind myself that being pretty for a day won't make me forget how ugly you made me feel.