Her voice was so sharp that it sliced my chest open.
"You are beautiful, " she said.
And there, in my bathroom, my broken heart tumbled into the sink.
"You are a good person," she said.
I reached for my heart. It jumped around violently, circumventing capture.
"You deserve it all," she said.
I stammered. My vision blurred. My heart was broken, but better a broken heart than no heart at all. Why wouldn't it just sit still? Didn't it know I needed it?
"You are better than their limited expectations of you," she said.
I collapsed to the floor. I inhaled deep, trying to catch my breath.
What was this woman yammering about? Didn't she see my open chest? Didn't she see my heart running away from me when I needed it so desperately?
I looked around for the woman. Seeing no one, I bowed my head, noted the gaping hole in my chest and floated into a swift slumber...
"What are you doing in there?! I need to take a shower!" my roommate's voice rattled me awake.
I bounced to my feet and patted my chest. It was whole again.
"Everything is going to be okay," she said sharply. "It always is."
I looked up at the mirror and smiled.
She was me. And my heart was mended.
