inthelouvre.org » “Change”

“Change”

Mar

'08

It’s been a week, Eve began. Her journal was propped on top of her laptop as she sat upright in bed thinking of her life. and I haven’t heard from him. Jackie passed off the note as if it were nothing to her, I even think she may have chuckled at me a little bit. I’m sure it seemed pathetic. It was pathetic.

She sighed. Something didn’t feel right inside of her, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. She wasn’t in love with the man she’d slept with; in fact, that wasn’t even an issue anymore. She’d stuffed the love note drafts into the back of her diary and let them be. They’d stay there for fourty years until she felt required to review her life in detail. She often looked onto the past for encouragement and advice, but rarely did she ever actually dive into old journal entries and relive the past through her own words. Fourty years, however, seemed like a good amount of time to wait until she did that again. She wanted to be so distanced from her current self that the “now” her was hardly remembered at all.

It would have been nice to meet him for coffee or hold his hand again, but he clearly didn’t know what was best for him. It’d been a week since Jackie assured her that the man had received her vitals. No name, though; Jackie conveniently forgot his name. Something was up, but at this point Eve was past caring. Dwelling on such a small thing as a name for one full week was quite enough. He didn’t know what he was missing.

Her issues now sprang from within her. She put the journal down beside her on the empty Queen-sized bed. She’d always kept two pillows for herself, but with anticipation left a third underneath the bed frame. There was plenty of room on the other side. Her toes scrunched into her feet as she walked to the bathroom.

In the mirror, she initially only saw her reflection. It would have been unwise to think she saw anything else until the introspection started. While looking into oneself, a person can see many things - memories, faces, ideas, fears, faults, pain. Eve only saw her own image. Her silky black hair reached her lower back and she thought it was time for a cut. Summer would arrive soon. Underneath her eyes she perceived small dark circles as if she’d been lacking sleep, but she knew it was stress. She worked overtime at work almost every night and the wear was beginning to show. There even may have been a wrinkle or two on her forehead, but she wasn’t thinking of that.

The woman on the other side of the mirror stared intently back at her. It was strange that she stared directly into Eve’s eyes; Eve tried to look away but every time she checked back the woman was still focused in her gaze. It was intimidating, an unknown experience that almost frightened her. Something out of a storybook. She shook her head and left the fantasy. The woman in the mirror couldn’t have been anything Eve wasn’t; she couldn’t let herself believe that she was stronger, happier, or more deeply satisfied. The woman would only look down on Eve if Eve looked down on herself.

When she splashed water on her face, it was as refreshing as finding a natural spring hidden deep inside a magical forest on a light, warm day. It lifted her spirits and she felt her way through the darkness, toes once again curled against her feet, to her bed. She picked up the journal and stared at it definitively.

Things need to change, she wrote. I’ll have to rearrange my life in some way that is more satisfying than how it has been. That man is no more than a memory. I’ve tucked him deep inside me, compartmentalized him into a small drawer where I keep all past experiences of such value. She stopped thoughtfully. The pen made its way to her mouth, as it often does, and she smiled. I might like a relocation.

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