Christmas and New Year's came and went, I can't remember what I did or who I was with but my favorite dresses are all torn and the heels on my Chanel's, the ones I got from mother, are an inch shorter than they used to be. My phone is full of text messages I can't interpret and pictures I never took. I haven't even bothered checking my voice mail.
And on Sundays, while everyone is getting ready to pick up the remaining pieces of their lives, I'm still here, in the bar of some hotel, watching my reflection in the mirror as it changes into something I no longer recognize. I'm still here, starting to make up stories about the life I never knew I wanted to have.
