Power

The sun is shining, hard and bright. The air is on the verge of chill, that special early spring cold that feels like a harbinger of green and smells like heaven.
My shoes are bright red, a smear of color that startles me every time look down.
I'm standing at the bus stop, watching traffic go by, and thinking about how much I've changed.
The knowledge that I'm being stared at doesn't feel as heavy on my 35 year old skin.
The almost tactile sensation of eyes running up and down my body is no longer an invasion.
Knowledge has given me this power, these shields.
I know what would happen if I accepted the invitation inherent in these looks, and I am comfortable in the knowledge that I don't have to.
But I can if I want.
I can make whatever choice I deem fit, and I know I can live with the reality of those choices.
Youth was beautiful. But knowledge is powerful, and I prefer this power given to me by the years over the frail beauty of inexperience.

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