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42
THE LITTLE IMPERFECTIONS.
<p> I walked past the mirror but paused after a quick glance. My reflection had stopped and was staring at me with anger burning like a flame in her eyes. </p><p> I turned to fully face her, looking very confused, " Wh-what is it? What did I do?"</p><p> "Are you really asking me that?" She asked, looking even more annoyed.</p><p><br/></p><p> I blinked at her, "Um, I don't know-"</p><p><br/></p><p> "When was the last time you came to check me?" She cut me off sharply, crossing her hands infront of her chest like a mother demanding answers from her teenage child. "When was the last time you looked at me?"</p><p><br/></p><p> I was even more confused. Where were these questions coming from? </p><p><br/></p><p> "Don't you dare look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about." She continued. "You find it hard to look at me because you're ashamed of me. I'm not the 'perfect' body you seek so you avoid me." </p><p><br/></p><p> "No, no. That's not what-"</p><p><br/></p><p> "There's no excuse you can give that would make any sense now. I am imperfect and so is everyone else. I have flaws-- we have flaws and so does everyone else. Why then do you not have confidence in me? In us? Why do you deny the beauty and dwell more on the little imperfections? Why do you compare me to others? No imperfection is the same but certainly nobody is perfect. Why don't you see that?"</p><p><br/></p><p> "It's not entirely my fault! Have you heard what they say?"</p><p><br/></p><p> "Why should it matter? People will always talk. Why do you fill your head with their words alone? What about your voice?" </p><p> She paused for a second before she asked one last question that broke me, "Why don't you love me? Why don't you love you?"</p><p><br/></p><p> I shook my head in denial, "No, I-...I do. I just-" I had no excuse left. </p><p><br/></p><p> She smiled sadly "You don't. Not as much as you should."</p><p><br/></p>
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