What I would look like in ten years

Published: Tuesday, 26 March 2013 Written by Alex - Maree Roberts

I zipped my bag slowly, going through my checklist mentally. I was still notorious for my carelessness, especially when it came to packing for the beach. I remembered my sunglasses. I turned to my dressing table to grab them, but I caught sight of my reflection in my full-length mirror first. I was surprised again, for a moment, at how much the years had changed me. It seemed like only yesterday I was in my early teens, just getting to know myself.

My hair was let down, with a part just off to the left side, which was now my trademark style. In a brief moment of vanity, I marveled at the dark brown curtain of silken, shiny strands hanging down to my waist. I thought of how many girls had similar-colored hair, but how few had the beautiful streaks of gold highlights that practically glowed in the sunlight. I laughed at myself, years ago, vanity seemed to be the only alternative to finding myself plain, but time changed people. I fixed my grey shades into my hair, where they would most likely remain until the sun became excruciatingly glaring. A few wisps of hair hung before my eyes, in my earlier days, they would have bothered me but then, they seemed to add character to my round face. I examined the smooth skin on my face, fighting a grin as I noted for the thousandth time, with pleasure, that I was caramel colored, not pale.

With the smile, my entire expression changed. My carefully sculpted eyebrows were raised slightly and my eyes appeared hazel in the dim light of my bedroom. There was a clearly visible circle of bluish-greenish-grey around my irises. As predicted, my eyes were reverting slowly to their original blue-green. The dark shadows under my eyes had lessened but late nights of studying had made them seem like a mark of honor. My face wouldn’t drop as I looked at my ears, three pairs of gold earring adorned my ears, a lasting mark of wild college days. My full, pink lips were lightly glossed and arranged into a bright smile, the chip in one of my front teeth showing. My eyes trailed down my long neck, lingering at the dark purple necklace, and the half silver-heart pendant at its end.

I was wearing a sleeveless white shirt with swirling colorful patterns. The colorful floral halter strap of my swimsuit showed, accentuating my shoulders’ narrowness. I said a silent prayer of thanks when my eyes slid over my bust. I could barely restrain myself from giggling with glee at my now developed bust. Now, I was so engrossed in examining myself that I didn’t hear footsteps approaching my door, or my name being called. I looked down my long arms, encircled by countless multicolored bangles, my watch and other wrist ornaments that led to long slim fingers. I had decided, since ending college, that I was 5 feet and 11 and a half inches, and that I was done growing. In truth though, I was 6 feet and 1 inch. My height had not posed a problem for me per say, for it made me look elegant with an effortless grace but sometimes, I felt out of place, towering over some of my shorter company. My fingernails, despite countless appointments to play the piano at events, were long, with a pale green polish that was chipped in many places, probably a result of attending the beach almost every weekend. Almost all of my fingers bore a ring, in varying vibrant hues. Almost all of me was colorful, the epitome of vibrant youth.

I looked at my slender waist for what seemed like a long time. It had taken hours of work, but I was quite slim around the middle. I proceeded to look at my hips, clad in black shorts, they were still slightly wider than I would have liked, but I was the only person who found objection to them. I looked at my long, bare legs in appreciation. Despite the scar on my left knee, I considered them perfect. They weren’t stick-like, neither were they oversized, just in between. Then finally, I looked at my feet, in purple flip-flops, their remarkable length was obvious, my toenails painted in the same green as my finger nails. I stepped away from the mirror and marked my overall appearance; colorful, I decided. Then I noticed the tall figure sitting on my bed watching me. Then he rose, and put his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Done?” he asked. I chuckled. “Yes. We can go now,” I smiled. He kissed my cheek lightly and I returned the favor happily. Leaving the room, I saw our reflection in the mirror together for a moment and couldn’t help but thinking:

He’s really lucky to have me.

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