Thursday 9th April.. something inside so strong.

Uh, Uh! I feel like shit. My lips are stuck to the pillow and my tongue to the roof of my mouth.I have never felt so bad. I painfully lift my head of the pillow it hurts like hell. I look around I am alone thank God.
I get up and go to the bathroom where I look in the mirror and nearly scream in fright...the person staring back at me is not me but someone from the Adams Family with a ghostly pale face and black and red rimmed eyes.
Something draws my eyes away from the mirror. There is the full length, pale gold dress hanging on the closet door.
I need to not look like something discovered in a peat bog a zillion years ago.
After a litre of water and a few nurofens and having brushed my teeth so hard my gums have begun to bleed, it is now or never!
I enter the store and I am about to do something I would normally never do. I walk up to the assistant who's skin is literally the colour of orange Kia-ora...she reminds me of someone I have seen before but I am not sure where. She smells of coffee, fags and Eau de Skunk. I tell her tonight I want to look like a fair maiden, I want to float in, in a heavenly, feminine haze and make sure I have stolen his heart. Well at least not look like a dog. I see her resist the urge to sni**er.
'You have skin type two,' Kia-ora says...'Okay,' I say happy with her diagnosis.
As Kia-ora tries to make me look semi human she asks me is this for a special occasion....I whisper yes!
Kia has at last finished and says, you are gonna knock him dead. Then she asks me do you always wear your hair this short....It would just finish it off if you had long hair....then you would definitely be the fair maiden. I blink back silent tears. Kia-ora launches in to we have special offers and starts banging on about would you like to buy the anti shine, anti UV, anti-shite flange cream? I pay Kia-ora and leave thanking her.

I am dressed in the floor length, pale gold creation...it's folds do not cling to my body as they use to...it exposes to much. I stare in the mirror, Oh well, here goes. I drag the bristles of the brush one last time through my short hair, it hurts my scalp.

Reluctantly I walk into the next room. I gasp he is stood there looking so dashing and handsome. I need to pinch myself. He says, 'you look beautiful.' I stick out my tongue and pull a face. He replies, 'you have no idea how beautiful you are.' The soft, loving eyes search my anxious face. He slips my arm in his, turns to look at me and says, 'you will be just fine.'