You're Beautiful

I see you, from time to time. But then again, you're always there. Watching yourself in the mirror. Going faster, working harder. Pushing yourself to the limit. Nothing will ever been good enough. I watch you fade away from blue to grey, and I watch your eyes fade. I see the blood and happiness drain from you. You've become fake, false but flawless. Well, almost. In your eyes you are always a work in progress. You push for that extra kilometre, that extra 200 calories. You have no idea how much you've lost. In time, in inches. You have become the one thing you hated. Addicted.

But I give you a smile, a reassuring glance. You are beautiful, in every way. Your hair falls around your face like a halo. You can be anything you want to be, and you chose this? They all watch you workout, they all see the determination. You're ambitious. Why are you doing this?

You've become a slave to the design. You're soulless.

The music takes over. Blares in your ears, drowns out my voice in your head. All you see is the open road beyond that gym TV screen. For 30 minutes the world goes away. They stop bothering you, they stop calling you names. The silence is deafening. The music drives you on, keeps you pushing harder each day. The loss is the side-effect. The pain is a resistance. An obstacle to be overcome. Your life has become a marathon, and you're only in training. The hardest part has yet to come. Facing him, facing his big brown eyes for the last time.

You look in the mirror, and I stare back at you. In that second you realize who I am. I am you, crying, screaming for you to stop. But you won't, not until you've been drained so empty that the numbness sets back in. 1,2,3...breathe.