The beep of the alarm signals – it’s time to be grateful for another day in her life. “I’m grateful for my family, friends, health and beauty”, this is her daily prayer, her most powerful driver to start a day in a major key. But something lacks. Even in the prayer, something very important is amiss.
She chooses to ignore the lingering blues (the faithful companion of her mornings) and fakes a smile (until she makes it at some point later, hopefully). “Never be daunted. Never been daunted. Never been daunted in public”, she made a motto, an empowering affirmation, out of Hemingway’s quote.
A few touches of mascara, blush and lipstick, a trendy suit, sleek hairdo and high heels (the sadder -the higher)- these automated actions create the usual image of a well-groomed and well-balanced young lady, alien to pillow- talk than pillow-cry. These are the criteria set by her and endorsed by her surroundings. And this is the protective shield against questions of “What’s wrong?”, “Why are you sad?” and the like. She hates the questions, and she hates having to fake the real reasons. She’s more comfortable being a “coconut”- the hard shell covering the soft “stuffing”- rather than a mild-looking and fragile peach. That’s why guys (including male friends) think her a tough girl. Sometimes bitchy and arrogant. And yet admirable. She doesn’t like labels, but perhaps, it’s the only one she’s ready to assume.
Walking her way to the office, she catches a couple of flirty glances of sleepy passers-by yet chooses to be absorbed with the music coming from the earphones. What comes next is mostly a repetition with some variations- over and over for already a couple of years.
She has a good job. Or at least better than her peers. Her ambitions are the driver of her success and financial independence. She knows her price at work. She knows her price outside of it, too. That’s why she’s still single, perhaps. She doesn’t want to compromise her freedom and feelings for merely changing her Facebook status from “single” to “in a relationship”. (She’d rather adopt a pet, instead). She loves being alone and is comfortable with it, most of time. She had her portion of disappointments and heartbreaks and now she thinks twice before starting something new.
And she doesn’t expect the guy she’s going on a date with at 7:00 today is her perfect match. She doesn’t expect any more- that protects her against new disenchantment. Enough of heartbreaks. She just wants to give herself a try, a proof that no matter what happened she can still love and be loved…
…First -mascara, and then- blush and lipstick – “good-bye, makeup” and remnants of the day and hello, Morpheus. The date was …entertaining. She promised herself to use a whole bunch of attributes with “dating” other than “promising”. It’s the process of hoping and expecting and creating castles in the air that lead to clinging. The more she clang, the more the precious things and people in her life eluded her. So, enough of clinging as well. Only living in the moment and flowing with life (or at least, attempting it).
The last thing to do for the day is the ritual of picking a random music track. This one is far from a lullaby.
In the fast lane
No time for love
No time for hate
No drama, no time
Whose soul aches…
”I’m grateful for being strong enough to accept and love being fragile sometimes”, is her last prayer each night…