Something about....

Washing my face at night.  I throw the water up again and again and again.  As hot as I can stand it.  I want it to wash the filth of the day off.  The hot water rolls from my eyebrows to my chin and I long for it to drip down my whole body.  Washing off the pain.  The sweat I earned.  Washing off loneliness.  Cleansing the peace that will sometimes not wash off, and that's a good thing.  I where my feelings on my face.  Anyone could tell you my face doesn't always reflect  pure joy.  I have a hardened face just like my dad.  We look rough from afar, but under the onion peel we are soft and emotional.  I once had a random parking assistant yell, "Smile!!" as I entered a parking garage.  What a punk.  I grinned a cheesy smile anyway.

Sometimes after a long day, my tears mix with the water that cleanses my fears away.  It feels like a safe place to let the tears go, because no one would be able to tell afterwards.  The heat of the water is like the thoughts, actions and words I've said that day.  Throwing it up in my face, then letting it drip off.  Letting it go.  Doing what you have to do.  I feel the wrinkles on my forehead.  Trying to massage them out, knowing they're there for life.  They are who I am and I've earned them.  Even when  a co-worker tells me I'll need botox in a few years.  People can be so brutal sometimes.  I look up into the mirror and see me.  Just me.  Blinking to clear my eyes of the water or tears, seeing myself for exactly who I am.  This is me.  I accept her.  She is who she is and she can't be anybody else.

I let the bubbles of the soap rinse off the make-up that I know is unnecessary.  Washing away, at first a mess, then eventually clear, pure.  The chaos is gone.

Resting my head on my pillow, I feel clean....fresh....even if the rest of my body isn't.  I'm ready to take on another day of life and all that comes with it.