How He Shattered The Mirror

I never would have imagined someone that attractive would want me. Self-consciousness warped the mirror as I gazed into it, and it was decidedly hard to see anything but my flaws. Why would anyone notice me? This is what I thought to myself, every time my reflection greeted me. But maybe I should start at the beginning. This is the story of how I realized I had a shot with the man of my dreams, and that I'm a desirable woman. 

 

The first time I ever saw him I thought to myself, “man, he's incredibly attractive, but he's never going to notice me. I'm just going to enjoy looking at him.” Looking into his eyes, I knew I could look at him forever without getting bored in that moment. Tattoos scrawled up and down his arms and neck, and his septum piercing glinted in the winter light. I had just gotten hired taking out groceries to people, and I felt as if the floor was ripped out from under me. He smiled, showing off the gleam of braces, and under that, near-perfect teeth. He flashed me the peace sign, and I struggled to find my voice.

 

“Ummm… Order f-for ____?” I managed to squeak out.

 

There was no way this man would ever notice me, but he was under my skin, despite that problem. 

 

“Yes,” he said in a voice like music, “Just put everything in the trunk.”

 

I moved robotically, my usually overactive tongue for once failing me. What does one even say when something like this happened?

 

“How are you doing today?” He asked, peeking at me over his seat. 

 

I almost tumbled into his trunk. Why would he waste time talking to a girl like me? I didn't think I was worthy of even a second of his time…

 

“Oh, I'm doing okay. I just started working here about a month ago. Still getting used to it,” I said.

 

I placed the final bag in his trunk, and smiled nervously.

 

“Thank you. Have a nice day,” I said as brightly as I could manage. I closed his trunk, his face flashing in my mind like a strobe light. 

 

He was beautiful, and I was just Keely. I was sure he'd never notice me. 

 

My shift flew by, and when I got home I couldn't help but call my best friend on the phone. She and I shared everything, and although I was too cynical and insecure to believe I had a shot with him, I couldn't help sharing. It may have just been a wild attraction- an attraction that made the Amazon rainforest look tame and benign- but my best friend had to know about it. She assured me I was pretty, and that you never know what could happen, but in my heart I was convinced that it would never be…

 

Men hardly ever noticed me and, even back in my school days-where boys had yet to become men and were struck by unruly hormones and misguided lust- I was ignored. At 22 years old, I had never kissed anyone beyond an innocent peck, and I had only dated three boys. This did nothing to help my view of myself. I was sure I was a loser, and nothing would change that. Again, my reflection I saw in the mirror was unimaginably warped, and no amount of head-tilting and squinting changed that.

 

Months and seasons passed, and with the recoloring of the leaves and weather I slowly became more comfortable around the incredibly hot customer. As a very extroverted person, I made an effort to talk to every customer, including Mr. Right. I found myself hoping he'd have orders, and keeping an eye out for his name on orders. I took orders out to him at least a few dozen times, and every time we spoke more and more. He even asked my name one day, as if he actually cared who I was. 

 

Four months ago to the day, the mirror shattered, and a new one began to to rise from the ashes like a phoenix. 

 

I saw his name pop up on the Arrivals screen, and I rushed to grab it. I fished my phone out of my pocket, and quickly checked my hair. I looked like a disheveled Muppet, but what could I do? I quickly grabbed his groceries, and went to take them to him. He flashed me his standard peace sign, and I went to load up his groceries. 

 

“Hey, the last time I took an order out to you, we briefly talked about music and I was wondering, what kind of music do you like?” I asked, over his backseat.

 

“Mostly metal,” he answered.

 

I watched quizzically as he dug in his center console. He removed a slip of paper, and reached over to hand it to me. 

 

I felt my forehead wrinkle, and my mind spun. What could it be?

 

“Thanks…?” I said dumbly.

 

I have no recollection of anything else he said- I was too busy burning from the fire the slip of paper had started in my pocket. I went back into the building, and asked to go to the bathroom, knowing all too well I wouldn't be able to function with that piece of paper in my pocket.

 

I rushed into a stall, and pulled out the slip of paper. I unfolded it, and for a minute could only stare dumbly at its contents, not believing it. 

 

His name, followed by a smiley face, was scrawled above a phone number. My heart beat erratically, and my mind spun. Could a guy like that truly be interested in me?! He was INCREDIBLY out of my league, that much I was sure of.

 

My shift took six eternities, as all I could think of was texting him and my own insecurities. When I finally got home, I texted him immediately. I didn't want to seem desperate or clingy, but my anxiety reared its ugly head, and I couldn't bring myself to wait. 

 

***

That was four months ago. These past 4 months have made me more accepting of myself, and although I still struggle not to be hard on myself, I've learned maybe I shouldn't put myself down as much as I do. He's told me he found me attractive since day one, and had been planning to slip me his phone number for months. He makes me feel special and oh-so-attractive, and I treasure every second with him. His lips taste like joy, and his arms around me like a slice of Heaven, and I can't wait to see what else life has in store for me and for us, for the first time in a very, very long time. 

 

Four months ago, I was sure no one would ever notice me and I'd die alone, a withered old lady who had never felt the touch of a man. Then the man of my dreams opened my eyes to a world of possibilities, and I just wish my eyes would have been opened sooner. Because the world may be cruel and brutal, but oh, how it can explode with colors when you're happy and don't constantly belittle yourself….