I stared at the two masks hanging from the mirror above my dresser. One mask featured a smile while the other displayed a frown. My freshman year of college I took a drama course, and the professor gave us these masks to use as a tool to summon the emotions of the characters we were portraying.
I dropped the class but kept the masks because for me they were so much more than a tool. Those masks are who I am.
The smile conveys how I feel when my maker is silenced.
The frown reminds me it will all come crashing down, and I was only smiling during a brief pause from my truth. My maker will return and bring me down from whatever manic state of happiness I was now experiencing.
I’m not one of the lucky ones.
Over the last month I have slept more than anything else because when I sleep…I dream and in my dreams, I see him.
I dream of our story.
I dream of the smiles.
And then I wake, try to hang onto the happiness of the dream, pray it guides me out of the depression I am in…but it doesn’t.
I want one more chance to smile.
One more chance to be a girl in love.
One more chance to be normal.
It doesn’t come.
It never comes.
And so I close my eyes again.
Maybe next time.