I avoid my reflection in the mirror as I turn the water on in the shower and sit on the toilet to expel him from my body. I can’t look at myself like this, or I might start to believe I’m weak and pathetic like Ray says I am. This is the part I hate the most: when I can still smell and feel him all over me. Once I cleanse him from my body, I’ll be born again, and only then can I look myself in the eyes. Steam billows out of the glass enclosure, fogging the mirror. It’s my cue that it’s safe to get off the pot and into the shower. My skin crawls as I dump an insane amount of body wash into my
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So deep for me. I remember this feeling.
