She looks happy, she has my smile, my eyes, my hair, but I do not know her. You see my body standing tall before you. You see it as strong, moving, resilient, but I do not know this body you are seeing.
We speak of the life of a woman who you think you know, who you think I can give a voice to, but I have no new words to give to her present life as she is not there anymore, I am not there anymore, I just look like someone you used to know.
I remember how to inhabit this shell. I know how to move within this body and how to be the person who you remember and love – I have perfected skills of being her over a lifetime, but I am not there. The real me is somewhere floating above the one you see. Yet I do not know how to merge the two.
How do I remove the facade? Even the smile I paint on is more real than the person who I present to you.
Then, so that I am not indulging the lie, I do not speak of the woman you do not know. I do not speak of my current life or the past I have never revealed. I only speak of the past experiences we have shared together and I listen to your stories of every single part of your life, past, present and future. I know how to do this; I know how to listen and how to share in your life and your joys and your sorrows.
But mine? I have no words for my life, so I gloss over them with a jaded farcical history.
The real me? She gets overlooked, overshadowed, hidden away so that I hardly remember she is there.
But she screams as she needs attention, nourishment, nurturing to live and without it she begins to hurt and slowly begins dying within the pain of her abandonment.
When it is time to leave you, when it is time to return to myself, I do not know how to connect to the reality of my being. I am left with an empty shell, leaving my facade with you but not knowing how to reach the woman I am or the girl who I was.
Who am I?
Who have I become?
Who is this girl who lives in your eyes?