Would she ever truly love herself? She felt as if she was grasping at sand – as soon as it was in her hand each grain fell through her fingers. Some days it felt like loving herself was her highest hurdle to jump, the highest mountain to climb, the widest river to cross. A shallow space remained where a sea of love should have been. When she looked in the mirror, a stranger looked back. A blank image that morphed into a new being at each glance.
Why was it so hard for her to know that person looking back? She asked herself this as she placed a single hand on the mirror. The stranger’s finger tips touched her own, but no connection was felt. Blank eyes stared back at her. She yearned to see those eyes sparkle, to know they were her own. To be one with the stranger was her biggest desire. To love her and then love herself.