It is when you’re alone that you dare to be yourself. No boundaries, no rules, no nothing. There you are in your room just as you are, the remains of what the day that’s about to come to an end has left of you. You’re tired, worried, half-naked… almost defeated. Somehow, happy. No shoes to lace up, no holes in your socks to cover up nor that stain a drop of bleach left on your trousers to care about. You’re there, in your underwear and a white button-down shirt waiting for this day to end, wishing you could be as brave as you are in that very minute the next morning.
You take a couple of shots of yourself in that moment of comfort, of freedom. Then, you feel guilty and embarrassed. What if someone found those files? What if…? What a shame! But… why? Why would you be ashamed of showing what nature was not ashamed of creating? You’re embracing yourself just like that, with the pimple on your forehead and the stretch marks that weight loss left on your ass. Yes, ladies, we also develop those motherfuckers.
Your cologne has faded, and let’s face it, you smell a little bad. But, come on! It’s the end of the day, and you were out and about, in a rush. Always in a rush, trying to live while pretending to be all perfect. What a shit! Yet there you are, feeling daring, being a little fucking tease to your very own self as if you were saying “Look at you, buddy. How come you’re not more like this when you leave home every morning? This courageous, this carefree…”
Then, Einaudi’s music starts playing on the background, how convenient… But right before you fall apart, you hear the birds sing, and realize the morning’s come along with its glaring, almost blinding light dragging you out of your own darkness and telling you that this day is a new chance, a new beginning… Even if the only things you feel you have are your underwear and that white button-down shirt.
Time to get in the shower, I’m running late.
Note - Thanks to all of you who encouraged me to post this, not an easy call. I swear.