Bland and Noteworthy

It was not her alarm screaming in her ear that woke her up, it was the rush of cold air that swirled around her bedroom. She snoozed her alarm and pulled the covers over her head. She remained there under the covers hiding from the cold; hiding from the trials of the day. “what would I miss out on today?” she thought to herself. Running through her long to-do list the thought of staying in bed become more attractive. The alarm reminded her that today was not just going disappear. She couldn’t disappear. He couldn’t disappear. She climbed out of bed and the cold air brought her no comfort. Some days just aren’t easy. You can’t just snooze the day and come back to it later. 

“It might sound ridiculous, but honestly it’s not you it’s me.” She reads off of her phone screen. “It’s not you it’s me” she read again. She immediately starts to question everything; her hair, her clothes, her personality, her major, her heart, her worth. “It’s not you it’s me” she reads again. Her heart is flooded with the painful memories of the past. All the sharp words slit her skin and make her bleed the insecurities that fill her.  “It’s not you it’s me” she reads again. She’s immediately thrown into a time machine where she travels to every painful place she has been. Places where she feels hopeless. Places where she never thought she would have to go again. “It’s not you It’s me” she reads again. She lets just a single tear out. Not because she is sad because of the unfortunate break but because she invested in him things she thought would blossom into something beautiful and different. But she was wrong. “It’s not you it’s me” she reads again. She promises this time she will not break, she promises to block his number and forget it all. “It’s not you it’s me” she reads again. She breaks. 

Her phone buzzes. She doesn’t care to look anymore. She falls to the thought of her expendability in his life. She knows he isn’t as sincere as promised, but the hopeful side of her sees her worth glimmer in his eyes. Her phone buzzes. She doesn’t care to look anymore. She dreams of the tactility of his lips brushing against hers and the way he touches her face with such gentle caress. Her phone buzzes. She doesn’t care to look anymore. She’s tired of being an option in his life; a free time hobby. Her phone buzzes. She doesn’t care to look anymore. That late night pillow talk is set on replay; “When we first met, did you ever expect this was going to happen?” Immediately followed by giggles and “remember when’s”. Her phone buzzes. She glances and his name isn’t to be found. The ground is ripped from below her and she falls helplessly into the reality of her nominal existence in his world.

She sits and shreds a tissue into a million microscopic pieces. Her heart sinks, She drowns. With her head lowered she talks of memories that wounded her current image. It only took the slightest mistake; a B on a report card, a broken glass, a laugh a little too loud. She’s learned to be a pleaser to keep the peace. She lives life looking over her shoulder, waiting for the strike of punishment. She rips the last little bit of tissue she has left to dry the tear streaming down her face, she admits she’s tired of the pressure. She admits she does not want to live that way anymore. 

The morning sun gleams through the cracks in the curtains. It would be far easier to pull the blankets back over her head. It would be far simpler to let the sun stream through the windows and not rise to greet it. It would be far less painful to turn over and let sleep seize her again.  But this morning she doesn’t let that feeling win. She pulls the covers back, steps onto the carpet and stretches her arms to heavens and takes a deep breath of the grace today has brought her. She takes a step away from her comfort zone and into the arms of the day, who brings her hope and courage through every moment.