I don’t want to be like the woman behind the mask. As long I have known her, she has been miserable. The woman is incapable of being happy. How does a person, a woman at that goes through life without friends. A woman always need her circle of sister girlfriends. When the circle comes together, that’s the time to let go and have some good laughs over nothing.
I have never seen her genuinely happy. Sadness always in her eyes. Sadness follows by rage. The rage never ends. It goes on and on throughout the day. Twenty-Eight years of observation and interaction. As more time passes by, the woman behind the mask continues to master and skillfully play the part.
It’s a show, it’s a very sad show that will have nothing less than a miserable, sadful, and lonely ending. She abondoned all of her own, and sacrificed her happiness, a chance at living life. Sacrifices with no meaningful reasons. Incapable of truly loving her own. Incapable of loving herself.
At times, I feel pity for her. It must be miserable to spend your life behind a mask. I can see her misery through the mask. The mask doesn’t fool me. Others pretends and hide her secrets. What is or who is she’s living for? I continue to ask myself. What are her reasons of living and existing? Is she paying a price because she made a deal with the Devil?
Whatever the story really is. I refuse to be the woman behind the mask.