Perfect disaster

Every now and then comes a point in life, when you feel you can’t go on anymore. Everything that could go wrong, it goes wrong, even the things you never thought about. You wake up with a massive pimple on your forehead. You rip your dress and have to rethink your whole outfit. You spill your coffee on your new outfit and have no spare one. You miss the bus. You get scolded by your boss. Your crush is MIA for days now.

Your whole life seems to go down the drain. And no one even glances an eye. Like you’re not even there. Like you do not even exist. So you hide in the bathroom stall, crouched on the cold floor tiles. You want to cry. God, how desperately you want to cry. Blubber out all the hopelessness, the frustration, everything that is sitting on your chest, making breathing almost impossible.

But you can’t. Doesn’t matter how hard you try to force the teardrops out of your beautiful eyes, they stay dry. Your liner is still perfectly winged, your mascara didn’t move an inch from your lashes.  Even though you’re breaking inside, from the outside you look perfectly together. A perfect little disaster.