Who am I?
Fuck if I know.
I step out of a scalding hot shower, humidity filling the bathroom, the air weighing so heavy it's hard to breathe. I can relate. I wrap a towel around my waist and feel my way to the sink. Who am I? This question continues to plague me. My eyes crawl up to the mirror begging for an answer, but a buildup of moisture prevents me from seeing my reflection. I place my fists on either side of it, rub the steam off with my palm, and stare. As I contemplate this question, the only thing I'm left with are blank eyes looking back at me. I know this shouldn't be, but it is. I'm a devoted son, responsible brother, trusted friend, excellent student, and a good fuck. I’ve been told I'm talented. And I suppose things come easy to me. My life seems perfect.
There shouldn't be anything missing, right? Wrong.
There is.
I only wish I knew what it was.
Published on September 26, 2013 06:24