A Morning's Reflection
The morning light filtering through my window was faint and gray, matching the dreary mood that had settled over me since waking. I lay unmoving, watching dust motes dance in the pale glow, feeling weighed down by a sadness I couldn't quite explain. Shapes and colors from dreams lingered at the edges of my memory but slipped away when I tried to focus on them. All that remained was a lingering sense of unease.
With a sigh, I tossed back the covers and sat up, running a hand through my tousled hair. Cool air raised goosebumps on my bare arms and I shivered, pulling my knees to my chest. My gaze fell on my reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. Hair askew, dark circles shadowing my eyes - I barely recognized the face staring back.
Rising slowly, I crossed the floor on unsteady feet. Up close, my complexion seemed washed out, drained of vibrancy. But it was my eyes that caught and held my attention, drawing me further in. Red-rimmed and swollen, the whites shot through with broken blood vessels. They shone with a glossy sheen that betrayed the pressure building behind them, a dam threatening to break at any moment.
Water welled unbidden, spilling over in fat tears that streaked down my cheeks. A sob tore from my throat as emotions long suppressed came flooding to the surface. Grief, fear, loneliness - they crashed over me in unrelenting waves, dragging me under. I sank to my knees, heaving for breath between body-wracking cries.
All the tears I'd held back for weeks, months, years - they poured out of me in a torrent, cleansing and cathartic. Snot and tears coated my face but I didn't care, couldn't find it in me to be embarrassed. I was too consumed by raw, primal sorrow, an ache that felt like it might split my chest open.
Time lost all meaning as I knelt there, caught in the storm of my own making. Slowly, gradually, the torrent eased to a trickle, then stopped. Exhausted, wrung out both physically and emotionally, I slumped against the wall, heedless of the mess coating my skin. My eyes burned and my throat ached, but an odd sense of peace had settled over me.
The mirror's surface had fogged over, hiding my reflection from view. I didn't try to wipe it clean, content to sit in the murkiness for a while longer. As my breathing evened out, other sensations began to filter in - the hard floor beneath me, and the chill in the air. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I'd not eaten since the previous night.
With effort, I pushed to my feet and stumbled to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of my haggard face in the glass. Red and swollen, eyes still wet but clearer. I cleaned away traces of my breakdown, then dressed in fresh clothes, each movement slower than the last. By the time I made my way to the kitchen, the storm had passed, leaving calm waters in its wake.
A hot breakfast and strong coffee worked to revive my flagging energy. As I ate, I reflected on the catharsis of morning's tears, releasing burdens I'd carried too long. Renewed resolve filled me - no more wallowing in shadows of the past. It was time to embrace the dawn of a new day.
