my mom hasn't cleaned off the mirrors in my room at home since junior year of high school. she had given me some crayola window markers and i got down to business.
in pink letters, i had written, "I'M NOT ALRIGHT!!!!!" and now i wonder, "what wasn't alright?!"
i asked her if she was planning on wiping it off anytime soon (my room doubles as the guest room and i've wondered often if she's embarrassed by the things i wrote, what friends had written, how blatantly it is displayed. i could put a disclaimer plaque on my door that says "she's in college now, she's got it together, please disregard the psychobabble on the mirrors.").
she said, "it's yours to clean off whenever you decide. i won't do it for you."
it needs to get Windex-ed. badly. it's begging for it. it's hard to let go of it though- look at all the history! the highs and lows, out in the open where they can be seen, remembered, understood. what if i miss them? what will it be like to look into the mirrors and see my face without the distortion of words long past?