You come in, late, later than normal. I don’t know why. I saw you from that shop window, again from that shiny Mercedes your neighbours got last week.
But your reasons don’t interest me. Nothing about you does. I don’t care what goes on in your life, even though it changes mine. But now something’s changed. It’s only small. But important. At least to me.
The corridor is dark as a nightmare; I see a flash of worry cross your face as we pass the mirror in the hall. We set our keys on the stand, and you jump at the small chink of metal against the smooth, cold surface.629Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY9sBwXvoiv
You hurry into your room, but slow down as you approach the mirror in the corner. You reach out; slowly, so slowly, and hesitantly run your fingers down the shiny surface. You wait, and it is a long time before you look at me. I return your gaze, boring into your eyes until they’re forced down. I feel my head drop with yours, but we both know I have won.
You turn round and rest your back against the mirror. Even though I know I can’t, I think I can feel your weight resting against my spine. I feel the fear pouring out of you.629Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwP0NSghID0
As you look in the mirror I see you as you really are. I had never noticed how you cover your ears with your hair. I didn’t even realize you were embarrassed by them.
I also see the pain in your eyes, the emotional scars which will never leave you. I could have helped you, but instead I left you to drown in your own despair. And... I’m sorry. Before, I never saw you as a person. You were only a reflection to me. My broken reflection. A joke we both get but will never laugh at. Because it doesn’t really matter what side of the glass we’re on, does it? We both have feelings. We both have secrets.
But as I look at you and you look at me and we both stare into each other’s eyes, and I think, no, actually, I'm not sorry. I don’t regret it. And as a mutual – something – passes between us I think:
This was all worth it.
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