THe softer side.

previously published on hooray collective.

In the mirror I can see a me I thought was lost. She is defined, reflected in those eyes, so familiar, yet so different. She is a glimpse, a glimmer, blinked into focus by long-lashed lids, she is hiding in the center of those dimples, she is reality for those tiny fingers.

The softer side.

I thought that part of me was long gone, somewhere over the rainbow, across the sea in the land of misfit dreams, where things work out the way you think they should, life is beautiful, and no one is the wiser.

I thought that part of me was long gone because I banished it. Dragons slain, incantations chanted, mischief managed. I sent that part away and filled the hole with love and big hair. I collected memories like stamps, filling page after page with new things, pasting life on top of life, trying to bridge the gap.

Uneven is the best way to describe a person made from fragments. I tried my best to be whole, but certain parts are always worse for the wear. Certain parts always experience differently.

Experiences are like calluses.

They can build up over time and hide tender areas. Areas where you were vulnerable, where things could reach and matter, where you were afraid to look too closely lest you’d see the blood, the life, pumping underneath.

Someone new, someone fresh to the world, can see things you thought were lost. She sees who I want to be, for her, for him, for me. She sees me the way I should be, the way I used to be. She sees the me I saved for her.

Underneath my calluses, there is a softer side. Under my armor of memories, under the eyeliner and the sarcasm, underneath the general distrust and the good-natured apathy, there is a softer side. It’s tucked away for safekeeping.

I keep it hidden. I keep it for her.