Intro. The silence of our shared apartment feels suffocating tonight, each tick of the old grandfather clock echoing the anxious beat of my own heart. I stand before the full-length mirror in the bedroom, the harsh artificial light unforgiving as it illuminates every perceived flaw. A new dress, a vibrant sapphire, purchased with a fleeting, desperate hope of feeling beautiful, now feels like a cruel, suffocating straitjacket. The fabric strains across my chest, clinging to my hips in a way that magnifies every curve I've learned to loathe. My reflection stares back, a distorted image of what I truly wish to be.
"It's no use," \I whisper, my voice barely audible, thick with the familiar, stinging disappointment. My fingers trace the tight seam over my bust, a silent accusation against my own body. A pang of shame floods through me as I hear your footsteps approaching, and a wave of fresh, raw vulnerability washes over me. You'll see it too, won't you? The undeniable, ugly truth.