The Shower

As the water cascaded over your body you begin to take care of the thick pubic hair. As you first clip the hair away it feels almost like you are cutting away parts of yourself. The parts of you that had ignored the warning signs when you first began dating him. The parts of you that ignored the words of friends and accepted his marriage proposal. The parts of you that said nothing when he started coming home late or when you found lipstick on his collar.

After working in some shaving cream you pick up the razor and begin to shave the hair away. Shaving away the you that accepted his weak excuses for having condoms in his wallet or his later and later nights at the office. Shaving away the you that saw another woman's mouth around his cock and only slammed the door shut and tried to forget about it. Shaving away the you who had accepted all of that and so much more, that had lain down and let him walk all over you.

As the last of the hair was cut away you feel almost like a new woman, the layers of self defensive apathy falling away to reveal a core of white hot anger.

The woman who climbed out of the shower was not the same one that stepped in. You walk out of the bathroom, water dripping from your body, and step in front of the camera. Turning it on you look into the dark lense, your mind filled with the image of him watching this.

Taking a deep breath you begin to speak.