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Blurred Identity
How can anyone assume that they know me when, really, I don’t even know myself?
The sun is shining, without a fluffy white cloud in the baby blue sky. I have to blink for a second and let my eyes adjust the unnatural brightness of the morning’s light. The sun is warm on my made-up face and tanned bare arms, but I can still feel the gentle breeze that lifts my hazelnut coloured hair off my shoulders. The scent of the vanilla flavoured coffee in the mug I carry is like heaven to me – warm and sweet. I leave the half empty mug on the railing of the porch before descending the couple of steps to the patio. The five foot high wrought iron fence that surrounds the property keeps all the unwanted ones out and only me in. I’ve tried keeping a small garden – vegetables, flowers, shrubs – for over two years now, but no matter what I do, everything always ends up dead. I take a moment and enjoy staring at the wilted and shriveled greenery. For some strange reason, I always get something out of that.
As I continue along, I feel the smooth patio stones under my barefeet. The fountain in the middle of the yard is quietly gurgling water. It’s clear and cool to the touch. I peer over the edge of the ancient looking fountain and stare right through myself. I was hoping that only a faint shadow would appear, but as usual, the reflection I fear never goes away. The bubbling water causes ripples to travel across what I see, which distorts the image even more. It’s a perfect replica of who I am – nothing but a thousand shattered pieces of me. A single tear falls into the water representing sadness, confusion, and lack of … identity. My fingerprints and footprints leave not a trace of the meaningless presence that exists. The gargoyles and gnomes that guard this fountain seem to be almost mocking me. They look like they have been here for as long as this hundred-year-old fountain has. At least they’re inanimate and don’t have to deal with an identity crisis.
The fence that surrounds the property is the fence that I use to isolate myself from the cold cruel world. It’s safe, secure, and the way it’s going to be from now until … possibly forever. Right now, my identity, both inside and out, is blurry – not sure of who it is and why it’s here. This blurred identity is hoping that it will someday heal the wounds it has created and walk through the gate that remains closed to all, including itself.
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