Beauty often seduces us on the road to truth. – Dr. James Wilson, House M.D.(2004)

I want to tell of it but it just seems difficult to share without all the emotions and realizations and other intangible things. And, telling of it means I am to lose a bit of anonymity, which is one of the things I really enjoy about writing.

So let this be the last of the letters:

The colors of the night were the swirling yellow glow of lightbulbs, the intense orangeness of wooden walls bathe in night and the deep red of longing and the past.

Your voice still caresses me the way it did before, but I do not feel the same. You look into my eyes the way you did before, and yet I cannot read your soul, the way I read it before. You are strangely strangely familiar, and yet I know I do not know you.

You are a well-loved movie from the past. But now that I am seeing you with my grown eyes, I cannot remember why I loved you so. My body remembers you, sure. My arms still long to wrap around you, my lips still tingle at the thought of your kiss. But my heart and my head are strangely detached. You are no longer a part of me, and though it is sad for all the missed connections, it is a strange relief.

You were a bad habit. But you were a meaningless habit. I was so used to you that it was so easy to go back. But I won’t. I’m done with meaningless things. I cannot spare the effort.

I wanted you to change. But you didn’t, which makes this so hard. If you changed, then I would have no reason to remember. Sadly, we both didn’t. Or maybe I did, but not as much as I would have wanted. But you know what? I’m done. I’m done waiting a long time ago.

And now, I’m done hoping too. Thank you.

I just needed to get these things out, so that I could have a bit of clarity. Too many thoughts and feelings were clouding me, I needed a rush of fresh air.

Whew. Now that feels so much better.

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As a woman, beauty has always been deemed as very very important. It’s like the only thing that a woman needs in order to survive in this world.

I’ve mentioned this before but I just wanted to explore the topic today. I have no problem with the way I look. In fact, I consider myself beautiful. And yes, I am fully aware that not a lot of people agree with me. In fact, there are probably only two people in the world who do, and I love them so much for it.

I am strangely fascinated with the world’s preoccupation with beauty. With a certain kind of beauty, that is. Who was it who mandated that you have to be tall and fair and “cutesy”? Actually, it doesn’t really matter who did, because I don’t really care. I may be ugly by most people’s standards, but that’s ok, because I find their tastes boring. I am just amused by how people dismiss people with unconventional beauties. It is amusing how those people do not realize that they’re missing a lot by thinking that they look so much better.

Of course I appreciate beauty too. It is natural to be drawn to someone/something that is visually appealing. And I am not impervious to dissing other people because of the way they look too ( I could be scathingly mean too, when I’m in form.) But it’s not really the dissing that bothers me really. It is snobbery, and the thing about snobbery is that most of the time you do not have the right to be the snob.

They say that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. But really, it is in the heart of the beholden. No matter how many people tell you you’re pretty or ugly, you’d only believe what you feel is true for you. And it should only come from people who matter. No sense stressing over people who don’t.

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Beauty can cover a multitude of sins. But underneath, we all look guilty.

-Frank, Criminal Minds (2005)

~ by denice on 19 May, 2008.