Far From Perfect || Tronnor

36: Rhythm

MOOD:   Touch   -  Troye Sivan   (Listen to the lyrics)

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Life is chances that are taken

But nothing's ever broken

-

The next morning, I woke up and instead of feeling better like everyone always seems to feel the next day, I felt like absolute shit. My head and my face hurt, and the shock of the events had fully simmered down, leaving me with just the painful memories.

I crawled out of bed once the clock read eight o'clock. Slowly, I ended up getting to the washroom, where I turned on the lights and looked myself in the mirror. The light was super harsh, and I had to force my eyes open. Even though my retina's were burning, I was still able to see the massive bruise that covered the half of my face. It wasn't as purple as before, but it had finally settled into my face, with an ugly green, blue, and yellow tint. I groaned and placed my forehead on the mirror in distraught. Why did it have to be so prominent?

After I had got myself off the mirror, I looked at my face again, contemplating whether or not I should go to school. On the one hand, I knew it wasn't smart to skip that much school, especially so close to the end of the year. But on the other side of the spectrum, there was no way on earth that I could show up to school with a big, swollen face without some form of embarrassment and/or harassment. There was no amount of concealer that could cover that bruise at that point in time. And trust me, I was practically a professional at makeup-ing bruises.

I sighed and walked back to my room, loudly shutting my door to let my mom and my siblings know that I was awake and pissy, and that I would not be coming out of my room for a while. I sat down on my bed and just tiredly stared at my floor for a bit. I wasn't really thinking of anything in particular, just zoning out due to my tired state. Eventually, the buzz of my phone shook me back to life, letting me know that someone had texted me.

I already knew it was Connor before I even turned my iPhone on. The text read,

"Hey, how are you feeling? are you coming to school today? I was thinking we should work on our English essay tonight after school at the library..."

I nodded in agreement, before hazily realizing that Connor wouldn't be able to see my head move. Gosh, how I hated mornings and the lazy state they would cause me to be in.

"I am feeling better, thanks. my face still looks awful, and makeup wouldn't do shit to it, so I'll be AWOL for another couple days, but I wouldn't mind meeting up tonight. It has been a couple days since I have seen you, plus we should really get that assignment done."

I replied with. I had no regrets about the 'not-so-subtle' flirting I added in it. I am still not sure if it was just because I was too tired to care, or because I was just feeling like Connor and I were on that level.

Connor simply texted back,

"It has only been a day ;P See you tonight xx"

I probably lost all my manly pride by staring fondly at those two 'x's with the biggest smile on my face.

—

My mind's gone on racing

On a horse that's escaping

-

Thirty minutes before I had to leave to pick Connor up—we figured it would be easier to just carpool since his house was on the way to the library—I sat in my bathroom, staring at the bruise on my face just like in the morning. I knew that I had told Connor that makeup wouldn't do shit to it, but I was hoping that that was just my morning judgement, because something needed to be done to normalize my face.