Je t'aime

Sometimes the mirror is worse than Monday. Just one glance, and the biased interrogation begins: what looks good here, and what is “wrong again”? A chorus of doubts roars in my head, each with its own microphone, and no one is silent. I want to say a few kind words to myself, but my tongue won't move. Instead, my thoughts spin endlessly, like a record with only one track: “I'm learning to love myself.” Learning means I'm still alive. And if at some point I manage to believe, even for a second, that there is something worthwhile inside... maybe that's true love. It may still sound quiet, tremulous, but it's already a little louder than yesterday.