Elizabeth sat on her bed and watched the seventh video in a row. Killing time. She seemed to be doing a lot of that these days. She just didn’t have any passion for…anything. Its not that she didn’t like life. She loved it. She enjoyed many things but she didn’t love anything. Somehow there appeared to be a difference between the two.

Huffing out a sigh she tossed her phone to the side and stared at her room. The queen sized bed that she currently sat on was covered in a soft mauve comforter. The obnoxious amount of pillows her mother absolutely demanded she keep on her bed, were pushed to the side. The dresser in front of her bed was covered in perfumes and lotions that she no longer used. She didn’t even like half of those scents anymore. It seemed sometime between graduating from college and the present that her body chemistry had changed. Everything had changed. Everything that is except her.

The Chester drawer beside her bed was covered with neatly stacked books and small boxes stuffed with photos she’d been planning on using in a scrapbook. Her bestfriend Lauren had even given her a scrapbook, a very nice at that, with a leather binding…two years ago. Even though her bed was close to the bed she still had to push herself off of it. Moving, it seemed, had become a chore in an of itself. She just didn’t have that passion for life that had always been so innate.

Rounding her bed she picked up her discarded phone and checked the time. 11:25 p.m. annoyed with herself for allowing so much time to elapse she stripped and made the short walk to her bathroom. She flicked her hand up and turned on the light in the bathroom. Something caught her eye and she looked to her right. She stared for a moment. She’d caught her own attention. She didn’t recognize her own body. When was the last time she’d actually looked at herself?

Sadness blossomed in her chest. Her once clear, chocolatey, skin was now mottled with a recent outbreak of acne. Lightly brushing her fingertips over her arms, stomach, thighs, she signed. She used to such pride in herself. She wasn’t so much conceited as aware. She aware of the little changes in her body. Somehow she’d let that slip. She touched her face. Little bumps dotted her face. She’d been ignoring them for too long. She’d ignored a lot of things for too long.

No longer. Looking herself in the mirror she promised do better by herself. She promised everyday to try to be more intentional with herself. She’d been focusing all her energy on others for so long because it was easier. She lived vicariously through their progress. But she didn’t receive the benefits of their progress. No. If she, herself, was going to succeed, regain, become, something different, she was going to have to focus some of that love on herself. No she wasn’t the most artistic person, but she would find an avenue and pour herself into it. She had to learn to love her life again and perhaps along the way she would figure out why she’d stopped in the first place. Breathing deeply she smiled as she turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. She felt like she was on the cusp of something. She didn’t know what it was but for the first time, in a long…for the first time in months, maybe a year, she was excited about what lay ahead.