It’s been a decade since the last set of instruction manuals on how to smile appeared. Since then, it has been extremely rare to spot someone, man or woman, carrying a smile. Instead, everyone now treads the street like cold, soulless, zombies—their heads exaggeratedly lowered, eyes fixated on a screen, faces devoid of emotion. Like zombies, there’s heaviness in their steps, both feet burdened by routine obligations, and an obliviousness to their purpose. Leaving the reasons on why smiles have disappeared and what it used to embody, let’s focus on the act itself.

To begin, familiarize yourself with the act of smiling. Find a mirror somewhere quiet and isolated. Then, standing in front of it, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Purse your lips together and, with great effort, try to push the muscles on the opposite ends of your lips upwards. Congratulations, you’ve successfully attempted a smile. Now, open your eyes.

If, suddenly, your vision is flooded by an undeniably creepy image, hold your ground— it’s none other than your own reflection. Take a step closer towards the mirror. Study your expression for no more than two minutes and ask yourself, what makes this smile seem so unnatural?

Again, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Think. When was the last time you smiled, genuinely? Where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with? How did that expression look? Describe, with great accuracy, how each part of your face looked: From your eyebrows, to your eyes, to your cheeks, and to your lips. Check that locked drawer on your study. A dusted Polaroid picture with a smear of ketchup on one of its edges should help jog your memory. With this visual guide, once again attempt to smile. Open your eyes and study the differences between your first and second attempts. Are there any differences? Were you able to successfully recreate the mental picture you imagined?

Now, step away from the mirror, turn around, and collapse to the floor. Let your tired body fall on the humble ground. Crash. It’s OK, there’s no need to keep your guard. There are no eyes to judge, ears to hear, or mouths to mock you—you’re all alone. Break your silence: Let out a wail, beat the ground with your clasped fist, run your fingers desperately through your hair. Surrender. Let the tears run down; let your head hang low. Forget. It’s over now. You’ve pushed them all away, tactically. You wielded your power over words, made a sound case, and killed your emotions with that suffocating reason. You’ve resorted all conflicts, the best way you knew how. They’re happy, at least you’d like to think so.

Remember when you went to the observatory? The sky was unspeakably beautiful that night. Admit it, those were tears in your eyes when you were watching the sunset. Many things changed after that night, as you knew they would. That’s why you desperately tried to capture each moment: from the hues of the sky, to the slope of the hills, to the twinkling of the city lights…to the tightness of his embrace. For once, you wanted to be truly at peace. You wanted to preserve that moment, just you and he in each other’s arms atop a hill on a charming night, but your fears never left you be. Throughout the night, you carried your crippling fear, held it tightly right next to your chest as a child would with her most prized possession. Different thoughts ran amok in your head as you walked through the planetarium, trying to absorb each information about the planets and the stars. It bothered you as you leaned in and tried to use that telescope, only to see the reflection of your own worried eyes. God, it even nagged you as you ate that tuna sandwich and pecan pie. You were terrified, and understandably so.

Both of you took uncertain steps as you climbed the stairs to your house. Reluctant for the night to end, both of you took a seat on one of the steps. You looked into each other’s eyes and let out a big sigh. Then, as if on cue, both of you lowered your eyes to the ground and kept silent. The next minutes passed in loud silence; it was deafening.

Sitting, defeated, on the floor, as you feel the cold indifference of the wall behind you. Laughing, telling yourself, how silly you were to think, even for a second, that there’s anything, anyone, who you could rely on for support. Spitefully, you look towards the edge of the room, and in its darkness, yet another recollection plays in your head. Mother. Daughter. Shoe Polish. Airport. You threw yourself to the ground and clung to her tightly. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up towards mother, still holding on to her right leg since it’s all your tiny arms could reach and wrap itself around, and begged her to stay. She laughed at your display. You were too young, too little, you couldn’t have possibly known desperation. But you understood this, she has big dreams for herself, and for you too. So, you let go. You extend your hand to offer her the shoe polish you’ve been holding on your right hand. She smiles, accepts it, and walks off.

The harsh incandescent lights bring you back to reality. When did you fall asleep? What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on top of the coffee table beside your bed, it reads: 7:15 a.m. What a silly dream, you mutter in an inaudible whisper. You sit up, slide on your flip flops, walk towards the bathroom, wash your face, brush your teeth, hop in the shower, dry yourself, dry your hair, put on clothes, put on shoes, open the door, and walk off.

You walk down the hallways of your office, say hi, warmly, with an infectious smile, to so and so. Spend 10 hours poring over dense readings, bid goodbye to Nancy, the nice old lady who works at the facilities department, pull out your keys from your right coat pocket, turn on the engine, and drive. Take your usual seat at the local restaurant. The waiter walks towards you. He’s a good looking guy, about the age of 24, nice hair, clean looking, bright eyes. He says,
"Good Evening, what may I get you for tonight?" You smile and say, "he usual." Every day repeats itself. You wake up from the same terrible dream, muse at its silliness, go about your routine, and smile.