You probably wouldn't know me if I passed you by.
That's all the description I can give you for I see myself as I am seen by others. I think that's who I am but I can't be sure.
It's new years eve. I'm sat alone in my room, surrounded by the remnants of my six hour trance; 3 empty crisp packets, crumpled sheets speckled with used tissues and a depleting bottle of Shiraz - the only bottle I could stomach the taste of from my Dad's generous Christmas supply.
I'm crying. My face is grimey and the mascara smudge I couldn't budge moves closer to my cheekbones every time I rub my eyes.