Color Me Pretty

waiting but not lost in myself. Unlike before, when I went to see her, I am not wrapped in delusions and crippled with ill health. This time when I go to see Miss Lianna Cheung, I am only going there to apologize. She believed in me, and I screwed it up. That's all there is to it.
    The sky outside is gray, but it's not raining, and I'm fairly certain there's a bit of sun trying to peak through those clouds. I pray for its success and then I move on to more personal thoughts, thoughts of Emmett and me and the ring that's sitting on my finger. It's small, like a teardrop frosted over, sitting there nice and pretty in a silver setting. Or at least I think it's silver. I've always been into fashion, but I've never quite gotten into jewelry. I know when something's expensive (and this little ring certainly is), but I couldn't tell you anything about carats or cuts or anything like that. I stare at it, and decide that no matter what, even if it were junk, even if Emmett had paid a quarter for it at the grocery store, I love it. I love it because he gave it to me even though he knows I'm screwed up and he knows I have a long way to go, and he's okay with that.
    Love.
    Did not expect to find it, didn't even know I was searching for it, but now that I've found I can tell you seriously: if it came down to modeling or Emmett, I would choose Emmett. Hands down. I'd choose him over fancy clothes and runways and magazines and makeup.
    I give the ring a kiss and look up as the cab pulls into the driveway. I climb in the back and sit in nervous anticipation, questioning myself with every mile, but knowing that I'm making the right decision. To me, Lianna represents the fashion industry as a whole, like if I can make up with her, I can make up with it and maybe, maybe I can move on and let fate take control. It's been there all along, guiding me, teasing me, tormenting me, but I never listened. After all, we get to choose our own path in life. Fate is just that guiding force behind everything that whispers secrets in your ear. Now, I'm finally listening.
    When we arrive downtown, I give the cabbie all the cash I have left and pause on the sidewalk. I don't think about how I'm going to get back or how I might be perceived. I don't even notice the people walking by, staring at me for real this time. They're looking, but they're not disgusted. Today, they're looking because they want to see. My dress is drawing their eyes, and my face, and even my body because although I'm still skinny, I feel comfortable in this moment, and comfort is everything. You can be beautiful as a size two or a six or sixteen or a six thousand. It doesn't matter. The body is just a byproduct of the mind, and although we can't control everything, we can control a lot. Perception is half the battle.
    The white brick building looms above me, but I don't let it crush me because I am strong, I really am. There is weakness in strength however, and that's what really got me. I was so stubborn and determined that I refused to see what I didn't want to see, refused to believe what I didn't want to believe. I knew I wasn't worthy and that I had to change, I had to suffer. So I did. And then I died and now I'm reborn. I'm one in a million. I don't know that yet, but Emmett does.
    I keep my mouth in a soft smile and my hands relaxed at my sides, marching past the ten foot tall windows and the displays of color and brightness. I must've been really out of it before because now that I'm here, fully lucid and attentive to my surroundings, I can see that Lianna Cheung doesn't discriminate based on sized. There are mannequins in the window that are a size zero and some that are a size ten. She just wanted me to be healthy. If I had been, I'd have booked the job.
    Pain comes then, just as it always does, but I don't let it cripple me. I ride the sensation and I feel it, fully and completely, coursing through my veins. Yes, I made a mistake. I could've been a famous model, really. I had it, but I let it go. I have to accept that.
    I reach out and grab the gold handle of the door, wiping away a stray tear with the back of my other hand. I want Lianna to see me, but I don't want her to see me cry.
    I pause in the front door and listen to the chime of the bell in back. I figure she may not be here, that I might have to leave a message with her assistant, but that's okay. Once these words are out, I'll feel better. I know I will.
    I shift a bit, running my fingers down the frothing