I have cleaned myself. Washed my hair, shaved my legs, brushed my teeth. Removed the nail polish, plucked a few hairs. I have put on some cream, dried my hair. I’ve been to my wardrobe looking for something to wear. Standing there naked, like I have been for a while. I have been standing naked, waiting.
Naked I stood, like a blank canvass, ready to be filled, drawn on, manifested, ready to be dressed. But I've been set on standing here naked. Standing prey to the gaze of all of those who think they know me, of all of those who saw me naked and didn't bother to protect me from the cold. Who watched from afar and judged. I did not like their gaze, so I decided to dress. I have waited too long. A second was too long.
I cannot remain naked anymore; I am too vulnerable that way. Too much on display. So, as I put on the guilt, the fear, the pain, if only temporarily, my proposal comes to an end. I can only stand exposed for this long. I might have chosen the wrong garments to wear to start with but soon enough, I will pull up my dignity, strap up my courage, wrap up in love and accessorize with pride. No longer naked. That only comes rarely and it has now come to an end. I am still standing truthful but guarded. My only commitment is to myself.
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