by Elara
I looked into the mirror and I didn’t see me.
Only a stranger. A lie.
“How are you?” people asked. All the time.
Did they really care?
For the first time I glimpsed what lay hidden. That secret truth.
I ran.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(They didn’t get to know the truth; nor did I)
I didn’t feel myself. I ate very little.
People worried. Or said they did.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t know why, I do now)
I had love, briefly. It was wrong. False.
Not her. Me. I wasn’t me.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(But who am I)
My life was taken over by study, every waking moment consumed.
I wasn’t very good at it.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(I can’t think, no room to think, maybe a blessing)
I saw and lived a wider world.
Discovered life isn’t so limited as I believed.
My mind expanded.
My thoughts ran wild.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(But who am I)
One cold afternoon alone with my thoughts. I looked beyond that veil again.
I didn’t run.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(I’m not who I thought I was)
I hunted information.
I searched both the internet and myself.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(Why did you keep this from me)
She. Her. Hers. Girl. Words that sparked joy.
I don’t know why it took me so long to understand.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(Is this who I am)
I talked to people. Some listened and loved.
Some didn’t.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(But you hate me for trying to be me)
I found others like me. I knew, for the first time, I wasn’t fake.
Only lost.
I thought I could trust family. I was wrong.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(I’m alone and scared)
It was too much. Too much hate. I planned behind their back. I ran.
This time I ran towards myself.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(I have no home of my own)
A needle in my arm. A piece of paper with official words scribbled on it.
I stuck a patch on my side. A pill in my mouth. For the first time I breathed.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(I can cry again now)
I discovered deeper truths. Binary is false, life is infinite.
I lived a lie all my life. I was broken. Lost. Betrayed.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
(Maybe one day)
I found love again. She loved the real me. Not the mask.
She was like me. She understood.
“How are you?”
“I’m healing.”
I looked in the mirror and I saw me.
In all my beautiful, scarred glory, I saw me.