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Changing The Reflection

Tags: doubt, love, desire

Can I become the 'other' me?

This is it. Months of texts and emails have culminated in a sixty-mile drive to meet my lover. Fantasy is about to become reality, and I’m scared out of my mind.

Glancing in my rearview mirror, I see nothing but doubt staring back at me. My eyes appear startled, like a rabbit caught in the headlights. In truth, that’s how I feel. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not sure I’ve got it in me.

An inseparable blend of fear and excitement addle my brain, marring concentration. Not good, when you’re driving. My car swerves on a misjudged corner, the angry blast of a horn catapulting me back to my senses.

I need a break.

Pulling into the next lay-by, I park-up and crank the window to let in fresh air. I gulp it back, taking in great lungfuls while letting the breeze wash over my face. Then, leaning back, I close my eyes. I need to compose myself.

The chosen meeting point is a car park in the centre of a town picked at random on a map. It’s still some distance away and, as I’ve never been there before, I’m worried about getting lost. Satnav’s aren’t always reliable.

My hands tremble. I’m dreadfully nervous and losing my way is only one concern. I don’t know what to expect from this rendezvous. I’ve dreamed of the possibilities - the kissing, touching, hugging. But will reality be like that? Irritated, I tell myself to stop over-thinking. What will be, will be.

With the fog of confusion clouding my brain beginning to clear, I’m almost ready to drive again. I start the car, but another powerful attack of nerves prevents further movement. Goosebumps prickle my skin in spite of the July heat.

What am I doing?

I’m on my way meet a man I barely know, a man who thinks I’m a confident, shameless hussy eager to act out the lewd promises bounced back and forth on-line. But that ‘me’ is a persona. She inhabits the realms of fantasy, not the real world. I’m not sure I can deliver her.

Stop-it. Get a grip. He loves you.

Does he? The real me? If only I could find the confidence to be her, to experience this real-life encounter as the sexy, fun-loving person, I conjure in the safety of my bedroom. Maybe I can? Exhaling slowly, I will myself to expel all doubts and, instead, relish the adventure I’ve embarked on. Embrace the unknown, seize the moment. That’s what she’d do.

I take another look in the mirror. The reflection has changed. The woman looking back is no longer scared: she’s a confident, seductive vixen with carefully painted lips and the smokiest eyes that shine with excitement. My alter-ego. My inner self. It’s time to set her free.

And I look good. Sexy and alive. My makeup and hair are great if I say so myself. Not bad, considering I made myself up in front of the mirror in a service station washroom. I changed my clothes there too, earning many suspicious looks. It couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t leave home looking like this. I never dress this way.

I’m wearing a top that hugs my figure, with a plunging neckline to show off my cleavage. My skirt is tight and short enough to reveal the lacy tops of the flesh coloured stockings beneath. Shiny black stilettos will complete the look. They nestle on the passenger seat beside me while practical ballet pumps adorn my feet. I’ve dressed to titillate, and he will be blown away…I hope.

Time is ticking. Knowing I must go, I resolutely return to the road. I don’t want to be late. I want to enjoy every moment I can with my lover. My existence was unbearably dull before I ‘met’ him. He breathed excitement into my life, rekindling flames of passion long since extinguished. He made me feel desirable for the first time in years and gave me back my confidence. On-line, at least.

So what if he’s married? So am I. And I have to admit, the illicit nature of our interactions thrills me. Thrills her.

Doubt again. And guilt. I shouldn’t be doing this.

I’m almost there. My heart skips a beat as I read a signpost announcing my destination. Sweat dampens my brow and, suddenly suffocating, I open my window to let in the rushing air. The cold blast quickly revives me, but flaxen hair flies everywhere, the carefully tamed locks reverting to wild curls.

Too bad. There’s no time to fix it. The town centre is straight ahead, and I can see the car park I’m heading for. It’s right there, exactly where the satnav said it would be. I’m not lost, I’m not late. I’ve no excuse to back out.

And he’s already there. I spot him immediately, pacing near his car. He looks as nervous as me. Tapping my horn, I draw his attention, and a smile of recognition illuminates his face. It’s the warmest smile I’ve ever seen, it leaves me breathless.

I melt. He’s lovely. No doubts now, I’m sure of what I want. I want him. I want his love. Relax, he’ll like you, I tell myself. Yes, he does - if I can be my ‘other’ self.

Parking close, I take a moment to smooth down my tousled hair and slip on my stilettos. I catch sight of my reflection in the window as I open the car door. Oh, screw it! I can’t change who I am or pretend. My lover will have to accept what he’s given, take it or leave it.

I think he’s going to take it…

My heart hammers wildly but my confidence blossoms. Head held high, I step into the sunshine to await my fate.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Welshdreamer42 2015 - 2020
No part of this material may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, or used in any other fashion without the express permission of the owner.

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