36

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
My response to being asked what age 36 looked and felt like to me.

Submitted: July 14, 2016

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Submitted: July 14, 2016

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Lying in the darkness, I search for peace in the silence. The words drip one by one from my mind, sometimes clinging to the faucet from which they seep. The voices in my head are deafening as they plead to be heard, each competing with the other until every word is indecipherable. My hands try to keep up with the conversation that plays in my head, but once again, doubt paralyzes them. The thirsty page is refused yet another sip.

Drool pools on my stubbornly soft belly. I stroke the blonde locks of a slumbering boy. The clock ticks a bit faster in this fleeting moment as I reflect on the love that surrounds me. I take it all in. I can feel it now, the ache this memory will impart years from now, leaving a bittersweet kiss on my heart. 

My husband's hand affectionately rubs my shoulder as he rambles loving declarations in his sleep. Upon waking he won't remember the words he spoke, but his testament tickles my heart. I can't help but to ponder a future in which fate claims its stake on him, leaving me incomplete. He is so much better at loving me, than I him, and I wonder if he knows the love my heart assigns only to him. A woman built of words and I haven't ever the right ones to describe my heart's devotion to him. 

Thirty-six has made its entrance, and yet, I don't feel at all thirty-six. Hell, most days I feel five, still naive and intimidated by the increasingly hostile world. However, the emerging crows' feet beg to differ. My face now tells a tale of countless tears and laughter. I find myself at odds with the visual story of my life, caught somewhere between acceptance and resentment. The world tries to convince me I am losing value with each passing year. That my worth is solely dependent on what my skin wears. I must admit, I struggle to ignore it, the noise the world makes to hide its pain. 

It's during my rendezvous with the darkness I realize how dim my mind can truly be. Plagued by doubt and criticism, I battle with my mind's wrath. Always ready and willing, she convinces me of my faults, conveniently forgetting to remind me of the good. Strangely, there is comfort in her predictability. Even so, the battle tires me so, and I wonder if I will ever win the war. Daylight is fast approaching now, and my smile begs to sleep. After all, she has many lies to tell tomorrow. It's time to quiet the noise. 


© Copyright 2017 Melissa L. Fellows. All rights reserved.

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