Reflection

   Once I got out of the shower, I looked at the mirror and realized no one was looking back to me. I hadn’t become a vampire or anything, it was just the steam that had rendered the mirror blurry and nothing could be seen. For a few seconds, however, I tried to look at myself on there. I pierced the glass, the fog and the humidity, but there was no one on the other side. It was better that way, I thought. I had never really liked mirrors but now I felt almost compelled to look at my face whenever I crossed paths with one.

 You see, I had accident a few months back and I got a very bad injury on my face. A piece of glass flew from the broken car window and slashed part of my right cheek. It was a deep cut and I lost a lot of blood because of it. Luckily, that was the most serious injury anyone received that day. No one died but I felt I was dying while they took me to the hospital and tried to save my face. And they did, they were really skillful at making my face look as if nothing had happened. A couple of days later, I was going home.

 However, I had seen myself in a mirror as they pushed my stretcher through the hospital. For a moment, they left me by an office and inside; I was able to look at my face and how bad the injury was. At first, I was too distraught to even make a sound. But then, not even a minute later, I started screaming and crying. I tried to get off the stretcher but a male nurse grabbed me and held me against the moving bed while a female nurse came in with a syringe and injected me with something that made me fall asleep.

 Hours later, I woke up in a dark bedroom. Everything had being done and I had no idea how many hours they had spent trying to save my face. I also had no idea they had been successful, so when I got off the bed and went into the bathroom to check on my face and so the bandages, the blood and the swelling, I never thought I would be the same ever again. I cried a little bit and then went back to bed. This time, I had no strength to scream or yell or do anything besides curl beneath the covers and let time pass.

 The day they released me, the doctor took off the bandages and let me see myself on a small mirror. There was a lot of swelling still and some dried up blood but my face actually looked normal. I mean, it didn’t seem anything had happened, although I told him that I still felt the sting of the glass slashing my face. He told me it was a normal feeling to have and that I could go to the hospital’s psychologist if I needed any help with coping. I told my mother right there to take me home, as I had a greater urge to get to my bedroom than talking to some stranger about my feelings.

 When I got there, I told my family I was going to sleep and asked them to not bother me for the rest of the day. I wasn’t hungry at all and just wanted to lie in bed for a long while. They had nothing to say against it, because who would? No one would ever go against the wishes of a person that has just been released from a hospital. So I went into my room, locked the door and just sat on my bed for a long time. I stared at different things, thinking about what had happened and what effect it had in me.

 Once in a while, I remembered I was supposed to take off my clothes and put on pajamas or something. So I would take off one shoe and then stare at something for a while. And then take off the other shoe and stare for a while at something else. It took me hours to wake up from my daydreaming and get naked. When I realized I could see my feet, my penis, my chest and my hands, I realized what had been bothering me about all that had happened. Again, I stood up and walked to the closet.

 On the door, on the inside part of the closet, I had a full-length mirror. I stood up in front of it, my bedroom a bit dark. I was tempted to turn on the lights or open up the curtains, by I didn’t. I pierced through that glass until I saw myself. I saw what I had seen for so long: a body I had always been at odds with. The body I had been born with and had tried to mold to no avail. I moved a little but my opinion of it didn’t change. It brought tears to my eyes, because I realized I was still that young boy from many years ago.

 I had tried exercising in all sorts of ways. I had tried poses in pictures, different kinds of outlets. I had tried all sorts of things and now I was almost thirty years old and I had realized that all my fears and insecurities were still there. I could hear people talk and laugh and then the scar on my face would get larger and more visible, like a red crater on my face. My stretch marks looked brighter and my penis looked smaller. And then I grabbed a shoe from the floor and threw at the mirror, shattering in several pieces.

 They found me on the floor, crying in silence with a piece of glass in my hand. My fingers were all bloody and my eyes were lost, far from that bedroom. They rushed me to the hospital naked, as they had found me, trying to prevent more blood to leave my body. I had used that piece of glass on myself.

 I spent years in therapy, months in a special facility and countless hours trying to get over all of it. I’ve never been able to completely but at least I get to breath now, as never before. However, I now always stop at mirrors and pierce them with my eyes.

 I do it in defiance of what they had done to so many others and to me.  Of what I had done to myself because of the world, because of all the pressures coming from places I cannot even explain. I still feel it but I can now fight it. And I will keep on fighting as long as I can.

A wedding

   Once he stepped into the room, the sound of laughter and talk suddenly died down. As he walked to an empty spot in one of the tables, people stared and some even held their breath, as if what they were seeing was something they would have never imagined. The walk he did from the entrance to the table only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed it had lasted for hours. Once he sat down people started talking and the noise in the room resumed after a while, as if nothing had happened.

The man’s name was Peter and he had come to the wedding alone. In the table he sat on, everyone was looking at him although it was obvious they were trying not to do so. They were failing miserably, as he felt their eyes probe him as if he was robbing something instead of just grabbing the napkin on the side of the plate. He was saved by the food, because the waiters started entering the room just in time. They served every single person a small salad and a small cup of soup.

 Peter liked the taste of both things and he specially liked that people were not looking at him anymore. It was a relief that they had stopped piercing his body with their eyes. Instead, they were busy making a critique of the taste of the food and the portions. In every table, at least one person was mentioning how in other weddings the food had been much superior. Also, they gave what they though was advice in order to improve the flavor of the dishes, even when most didn’t know how to boil water.

 Peter ate in silence. Once he had decided to go to the wedding, he had been conscious that he wouldn’t really be able to talk to anyone or share a single honest opinion. He was clearly the most polemical guest in the room but he wasn’t the most ungrateful at all. Maybe everyone knew his past and judged him for it, even some thought he didn’t deserved a seat in the event, yet there he was among all of the, having much more decency in one arm than most had in their entire bodies.

 With the salads and soups mostly finished, the waiters came back. It was as if a flock of penguins had suddenly entered the premises. They were agile and very fast, as they grabbed the plates and carried them out of the room. Only a few minutes after the last empty cup had left, they entered again, this time with the main dish. It was a combination of seafood and ground food, if you will. It was served in rather small portions but it came with another salad, this one smaller, as well as a plate with a baked potato filled with cream and ham. It looked very good.

 They waiters also filled everyone’s glasses with champagne. They would have to make a toast later on, before the cake was cut. Of course, please went at it again, criticizing the food. Some said the fish was raw and others thought it was certainly overcooked. Same with the other meats. Others complained they had received a smaller potato than everyone else and some people even declared theirs had nothing inside. Of course, many complained about the champagne, demanding for a waiter to come in order to ask them for the bottle.

 Peter enjoyed his food a lot. Even without talking, everything was really beautiful. Suddenly, it dawned on him that all of it could have been for him, if things had lasted longer and if love had been a little bit better built. Because every single person knew that Peter had been involved with one of the people getting married and that’s why every single time they looked at him, they followed it by a whisper and questions he knew were not the kindest or of any of their importance, to be honest.

 He tried not to listen to his own head and kept on eating, enjoying the fact that he had at least been invited, which was much more than he could have ever imagined happening, as there was no need to do so. But they had done it and he had complied because he wanted to show everyone that everything was ok, that he wasn’t dying or anything because he wasn’t the one in the altar. To be clear, he didn’t knew if an altar had been involve because he had missed the ceremony on purpose.

 There was no way he would make a scene inside a temple. He did thought about going but at the last minute he decided against it. Instead, he would make it to the party. However, he never intended to be late and make such and entrance but that’s how it happened and the only one he could blame was the taxi driver for being so slow. He even thought of talking to the couple and apologize for that, but he ultimately thought it was better not to fan the fire that people carried around.

 His baked potato was very hot so he decided to leave it alone for a while. The shellfish were excellent, or maybe that was because he hadn’t eaten any for a long time. The other two pieces of meat were a small pork cutlet, which tasted really good with a sauce they had made only for it, and a piece of veal that many people decided to leave on the plate. Peter ate it and realized that it hadn’t been properly cooked. This time, the murmurs around the tables were right. As he prepared to eat his potato, it was taken away by the waiter flock that came and went in a second.

 The next thing they brought were the small plates for the dessert. Peter could actually see that some carts were being pulled into the room. They had a large selection of small desserts on them, so you could choose any to join cake on the plate. Most people were looking at the selection but that was exactly on the opposite way they should have been looking. They were warned about this with the sound of a fork being lightly banged against a glass full of champagne, done by the groom.

 Everyone’s face denoted boredom. That part was often the most boring one in any marriage ceremony. But the sad faces all around weren’t enough to make the groom refrain from doing what coupled had done for generations in a wedding: telling everyone about their love in that small public forum, as if they had to justify what they felt. And many people, in this case, felt exactly that was what was happening, especially when they noticed the presence of Peter once again.

 The groom talked about how beautiful the bride was. He told everyone, with jokes and a charming but used sense of humor, how he had being the lucky guy to ask such a beautiful woman out. It was childish at times, but ultimately effective, as many people had started crying for no apparent reason. The speech wasn’t sentimental, maybe romantic. It was short and people erupted in cheers but no one really knew if it was because he hadn’t talked for hours or if they were really touched by his words.

 Then, the bride spoke for more than thirty minutes. Granted, she looked quite beautiful in her white dress and whoever had helped her with makeup had done a fabulous job. But her voice was monotonous, and people were almost sleeping by the time she finally ended her speech. People applauded but clearly because they wanted to be mice to the person getting married. She was proud of herself and didn’t seem to realize she had bombed so hard. Love had made her stupid.

 They cut the first piece of the cake and, after fake laughs, apiece was delivered to every single person in the room. The cake was not good or bad; it was just fine, like the couple on the main table.

 Before attracting more attention, Peter ate his cake with haste and then left the room. He grabbed some macaroons on his way out and ate them as he cried on the taxi back home.

Life's surprises

After walking for a long time, my feet had started to complain. My legs were starting to stop working correctly too and, quite frankly, I was dying of thirst. Not just for walking more than 10 kilometers but because I had decided to wear a winter coat, thinking it was kinda windy.

Anyhow, I had arrived to a neighborhood I didn't really know although a friend of mine lived fairly close. I saw a strip mall across the street and decided to explore the place.

It was not a big place but had a lot of stores and bars and even a multiplex on the second floor. I had no intention of watching a movie, and also no money. I just wanted to have a drink an watch people go by. I would think about how to get back home later.

Finally, I found a coffeeshop. They had many types of smoothies with multiple flavors and additions but I have always hated places with far too many choices. I was thirsty. So I bought a simple passion fruit smoothie, just fruit and ice, nothing else. After paying, I chose a sit outside the place to check my cellphone and drink my juice. But I didn't.

I should feel ashamed o something but I didn't then and don't now. The reason I didn't check my phone was that I saw a guy, a very handsome one, cute if you like the word. He was sitting there with a male friend. I drank my juice as I heard what they were talking about.

Surprise: the subject was a girl. Ok. Hope she is cute as well at least. I know, nasty thing to think but, haven't we all done it? It's not that everything is about how you look but it would be a lie to say we only fall in love with our feelings. We all need something more earthly.

Anyway, the friend left and five minutes after the girl, I suppose she was the one they were talking about, arrived. She was not my type, that is if I had one, but she wasn't bad altogether. He kissed her on the cheek and she sat down. He offered to buy her a drink and she complied, asking for a cappuccino. He rushed inside, happy that she had agreed.

That's a don't guys. Girls are not really into guys that do things so easily. They are just to easy and most girls, not all, are into someone a little more layered, typically complicated. Alert for girls too: don't be to picky. You're not all prizes. Nasty? Not sorry.

Anyway the guy came back with the drink and the girl started a long and uninteresting one person conversation about her friends, and how one of them was marrying and all the details about the engagement. The guy faked being interested but it was obvious he was interested in her liking him, not much more.

Ok. I'm not saying he's looking for sex. Although most guys do, gays or straights, many other are looking for meaningful relationships. The bad thing is that those guys are scarce and they are usually found by bitches. Yes, that is the word.

She then started asking him about babies and marriage. From what I could understand and see, they were younger than me, possibly in their first semesters in college. The guy just asked her what she liked and she keep on going, like a parrot. Never mind being ugly, if you just cannot stop talking, you're less appealing than an Arctic walrus.

I stood up to leave but my legs trembled and my feet hurt like hell. And I hadn't figured out how to get back home so I just wen back inside and bought another smoothie, an orange one. I came back to my table and realized it was five in the afternoon. I had to go back before sundown, or traffic would never let me leave.

Time had passed and I did not realize the couple was now arguing. What had I missed? More babies? A car? Whatever it was, the girl was pissed and, good for him, the guy took a stand. For what I could hear, he told her he was sick of going out with her friends. He said he would always go to expensive places with her, places he didn't even like, just to please her. And always with a bunch of people he didn't even like.

She bursted into tears and, not only me, but everyone around was looking at them. She said that her friends were her life and that it was hard that he didn't like them. And then she added something that made me laugh, loud: "Sometimes I thing you just like me for my looks".

Now people looked at me. I faked reading something hilarious on my phone so people wouldn't stare and some did look the other way. He didn't. And my face turned into a red fleshy thing. I hated people when they stared that way, not angry but just, looking.

Their argument went on until the girl just stood up and left, without saying one more word. Fast enough, she grabbed her phone and called someone. A friend or a rebound guy? Who knows...

I finished my second smoothie and really felt like peeing. Besides it was late. On my wait to the restroom I confirmed on the phone that only one bus line passing nearby would take me home. So I went to the urinals, thinking about how much time it might take to get home.

Then he, the guy in the coffeeshop entered. I went to wash my hands and he did the same, washing his face slowly. I then dried my hands in the machine and was about to leave when I heard him saying: "She's not that pretty, is she?".

I turned into stone for a moment. No one had ever come to me and talked, just like that. It was really strange.

"Pretty maybe. Empty, for sure". Now he laughed and I smiled. I told him that, by the looks of it all, he was better off without her. He didn't answer. I said I had to go but then he did something guys do when they are really affected by someone: he asked me to go with him for a beer.

I refused. Surely he had friends to do that but he answered they had all taken sides and that he didn't wanted to discuss it further. He just wanted to drink and talk about whatever.

And so we did. Needless to say, I still talk to him and we have become the best friends... No, I'm lying. That's not exactly what happened. But let's just say he's fairly close and we still laugh about that day.