I didn’t want you to look at me. I didn’t want you to see me. I didn’t want to give you the pleasure of enjoying what a destroyed human being looks like. How months of sleepless nights, floods of salt water, a cup-a-noodle diet, and unwashed, dirty blond hair presented themselves in a misplaced package. Because that’s what you would have seen, had you looked at me. But you didn’t place your eyes anywhere near. Perhaps that was the scariest of realizations. You saw right through me, beyond me. And I remembered, you had never seen me. So as of today, I will unsee you too. Frankly, I believe there are more beautiful creations to set my eyes upon.