There was a time when I would look into the mirror, and admire the woman staring back at me.
I would admire her long and tangle-free hair, passing my hand through them over and over. I would admire her smooth skin, that was devoid of wrinkles and pimples of any sort. And I would admire her mesmerising eyes; big, bright and grey.
Much time has passed, and today when I look into the mirror, I still see this woman staring back at me. But she appears nothing like the one I used to remember. Like my old self.
I now have to imagine a lot of things when I look at her. Imagine what it would feel to pass a hand through that thick lock of long and tangle-free hair. Imagine what it would feel to touch my smooth skin again. Skin that isn't wrinkly, or pimply, or even pale. And imagine when these dark bags will be lifted off my eyes.
I look at what I have become, and wonder - hope - if I will ever go back to being the way I was...
She glanced away from the silver.
"Are you ready? The oncologist will see you, now."
This post is dedicated to my Aunt, who suffers from breast cancer and has undergone the very physical transformation described above.
Tomorrow is assumed by all of us, but promised to none.