The bathroom stall was cold, small, and puke-colored-pink. I rested my head in my hands and tried not to hyperventilate as I felt the walls close in on me. My hair was too long, it was frizzy and disgusting. My fingernails with dirty and uneven. My hands were too big and my legs were too small. I could still feel his eyes on me as I sat down at the table.
Of course, there was nothing wrong with him. Strong, handsome, smart, perfect.
I ordered my food and knew that I ordered too much. I was fat and stupid. A blob of filth and incompetence. I could feel his thoughts radiating toward me, despite the smile on his face.
I looked around at the walls of the stall. There were a few pitiful attempts at graffiti here and there. Something about The Killers ruling, another note with just a name, a doodle of hangman with the words "Love Hurts" filling in the spaces. I shook my head and tried to take a few deep breaths before standing up. The toilet flushed immediately and I opened to door of the stall to step out and wash my face and hands.
As I stood over the sink, I let the water run for a moment or two, staring at the stream with dead eyes. I dipped my face in, bent down, and scrubbed my face vigorously with both hands. After, instead of feeling clean, I just felt wet. I frowned at my reflection, then noticed words in my reflection. I turned around to look at the wall behind me and saw "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL" written backwards, so that I could read it in the mirror.
I inhaled sharply and saw a smile in the mirror. It surprised me that the smile was mine. I dried my face and my hands with a paper towel and found myself smiling all the way back to the table.
He noticed the smile. "You're beaming," he observed.
"This is a nice date," I said simply, shrugging. But, in the back of my head, all I could see were those three words.
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.
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Copyright JuliaBydulia
Inspired by: http://operationbeautiful.com/
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