Sometimes, when I see my reflection from far away, I see hollowness. I see shadows under my cheekbones, purple bags under my eyes, cuts and scrapes and bruises across my cheeks and forehead. I see my scars. I see a pale reflection and eyes too big for a small visage. I strike myself as a lost child.
But sometimes, when I get closer, I see things better. I see the freckles dotting my nose, an even tone across my cheeks, the black flecks in my eyes that give them the appearance of depth. I see thick black lashes that don't need mascara. I see the hairs between my eyebrows that I never get around to plucking. I see a teenage girl staring back at me.
Sometimes, I wonder how many faces I have. I wonder which face I'm seeing is my real face, or if they're both mirages. I wonder what face my best friend sees, and what face the cashier at the grocery store sees, and I wonder if they're the same. I wonder if the days I find myself good are the days that the rest of the world sees me as good as well, or if we've all got different opinions on what I should look like.
Sometimes, I wonder if my face matters. If what I see and what everyone else sees makes a difference. I wonder if people take me at face value (pun intended), or if they wonder what thoughts lie beneath my skull. I wonder if I look twelve, like they tease me that I do, or if I look eighteen, like people think when they talk to me without seeing a face.
Sometimes, I think that both of my faces are really the same face, and that it's not my face that's changed, but my mind.
