Hard Beat

And the anger and outrage that I’d usually hold on to with my type A personality dissipates when I look at the pictures again. I can’t stay angry. She captured something in my eyes – more than just the expression on my face – that reflects everything I’m feeling inside but thought I was hiding so well: loneliness, anger, bitterness, grief, and temerity. You can’t escape the truth in your own reflection – and everything she’s drawn out through the curve of the lens hits me like an inescapable ton of bricks.