She woke up feeling fat.
PMS.
Would men ever understand?
Would she?
She wasn’t one for pity or shame. Shimmying into her tiniest bikini “PMS be damned!” she exclaimed, then poured a glass of wine and lounged under the gentle afternoon sunshine.
1 pm.
This week, she had been all about breaks: giving her body, brain, and heart one. The box of mementos she dug through recently reflected someone fierce. Strong. A chaser of dreams, an adventurer if there ever was one. But these days, that wasn’t her.
She was tired. Lost. Walking the marathon of life. It’s not that things were bad, for they certainly weren’t. It was the mediocrity of it all that killed her. Good enough just wasn’t enough. Not for her. She was always one with big plans, chasing life, grabbing on as if hanging from a speeding train. Pushing herself, always, to succeed, achieve, faster, better, stronger, one more set, one more page, one more song… But lately, wasn’t she just enough? The way she stood there, naked with all her faults? Someone should love her down to the bones, defects and all. She expected that of others, so why not of herself? Tired of being her own worst enemy, she gave herself a gift: a few days to do as she pleased, without thinking about silly things like proper manners and custom and what others would think.
So she drank more wine than she knew she should, and peeled off one more layer, took off one more mask for him;
She ignored phone calls and texts, and read and ate breakfast and wrote honest words, all in bed; She left her nails chipped and didn’t wear makeup, slept naked without brushing her teeth, picked wildflowers, sang in the shower, and danced in her room with eyes closed until everything stood suspended and she felt alone in the world, without worries or pain, or fears of tears and goodbyes;
With no heartaches or thoughts of future “I love you’s” and crushed hearts;
With no insecurities or need for covers and masks;
No miscommunications, unsaid words, half-empty glasses and gray skies;
Only sun and light.
Flowers, sunrises, and starry nights.
Only Love. And peace.
That’s all she needed.
That’s all everyone ever needs.
Love.
Peace.
She repeated the mantra in her mind until PMS felt like a silly little thing.
