What a face

I’ve been looking at some photos from a few months ago and realized I barely recognize myself. My face looks totally different. Not like there is some internal change that has decided to reflect itself on my face, although that may be true as well, but I physically look like a different person. I was told that time and time again when I went back to the States but thought perhaps it was because no one had seen me in a few months. But now I realize perhaps it was because I actually look different. It’s as if I’ve aged a few years, not in a way that simply makes me look older, but I look as if I’ve finally come into the whole of my being, like suddenly my body reflects the comfort I feel in my soul. A face that I know have to glance twice at in the mirror sometimes because I’m not sure I recognize myself. It’s a strange feeling not to anticipate the person who looks back at you. I’ve notice I’ve taken to generally only examining my body in the mirror as the face that looks back is some strange and beautiful being that I haven’t quite been able to comprehend, this person is now a part of myself. But this is me now and I think it’s a purer representation of me, somehow. My inside matches my outside for the first time in a long time, maybe ever.