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The Dress

By , Fair Haven, NJ
Your mom will walk into your room and remind you to try the dress on so it can be hemmed. You will pull out the dress from your closet. You will reluctantly slide your legs, torso, arms, shoulders into the white lace dress. You will look in the mirror, and you will realize that it didn't look the same as when it was taken out of the shopping bag a month ago. You will see that the hem falls lower, the waist looks tighter, the color seems duller. You will know that it doesn't look the same. You will know that it feels different. A muddy mix of dread and disappointment will set in. You will try to tell your mom that the dress looked better then. You will hear her be upset, as the same has happened with other dresses before. You will listen to her remind you about how you really loved this one, and so did she. You will scream at each other. You will watch her leave. You will attempt to make yourself look better. You will start to unzip the dress, then you will pause. You will stand for a minute and think about the way the dress was. You will feel the tears flow to your eyes. You will stand silently, the dress falling off your shoulders, as a tiny drop of salt water trickles down your cheek. You will wait as more come, softly falling on to the dress. You will take off the dress, and let it sit on the floor.

And the dress will stay there. That ugly white lace dress, once so beautiful and seemingly perfect, will be seen as forever flawed.



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SongBird04 said...
Jun. 10, 2013 at 9:08 pm:
Oh my goodness. This is very relateable, and I dunno if I'm reading too deep or not but it seems like the hidden message is that it wasn't actually the dress that changed, it was you, and you were unhappy with the way you looked in it. Which has happened to me, so many times. I love this and I hope you keep writing! 
 
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