Conversation With My Reflection
I stood in front of the mirror leaning forward with my hands holding the edge of the sink counter. I inspected the waves of my short black hair and the curve of my shoulders on either side of my neck. My arms were slightly toned leading my eyes down to my waist. I didn't have an hourglass figure, rather, when I lifted up my white tank top I could see the vague outline of muscles under the skin, and the curves of my midriff looked almost masculine. If it weren't for my chest and the more delicate features of my face, I could have been a boy.
"Hm..." I heard my voice hum gently.
Then I looked up into the eyes staring back at me and I faltered a moment. Somehow looking into those eyes was a challenge. I wanted to look away, but I forced myself to continue staring. I looked at the green iris discovering specks of darker and lighter shades barely visible otherwise. I realized that I was avoiding really looking into them, and then I focused on what these eyes really had inside them. They were mocking me. Somehow the expression in them was a laughing one.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
I could hear the reflection's thoughts: Why are you looking at your own eyes in the mirror? Are you really so egotistical? What is there to know that you don't know? You know why you're uncomfortable, its because you're afraid of what you know is here. But you want to prove to yourself that there isn't a trace of those things existing inside. But you already know its here. You know.
I sighed as I pushed off the counter and smiled at my reflection in spite of myself before turning away. I knew it was all true, but maybe that was the redeeming quality. To know that I was imperfect, to know that I was human... I was all of those things, but I wanted to be the best I could be.
I glanced back at my reflection and raised my middle finger at it. Of course it mirrored me, but at that moment it was just a mirror image, nothing more. All of me was standing on my side of the glass, and I was aware of every bit of it.
I switched the light off and went to bed.
"Hm..." I heard my voice hum gently.
Then I looked up into the eyes staring back at me and I faltered a moment. Somehow looking into those eyes was a challenge. I wanted to look away, but I forced myself to continue staring. I looked at the green iris discovering specks of darker and lighter shades barely visible otherwise. I realized that I was avoiding really looking into them, and then I focused on what these eyes really had inside them. They were mocking me. Somehow the expression in them was a laughing one.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
I could hear the reflection's thoughts: Why are you looking at your own eyes in the mirror? Are you really so egotistical? What is there to know that you don't know? You know why you're uncomfortable, its because you're afraid of what you know is here. But you want to prove to yourself that there isn't a trace of those things existing inside. But you already know its here. You know.
I sighed as I pushed off the counter and smiled at my reflection in spite of myself before turning away. I knew it was all true, but maybe that was the redeeming quality. To know that I was imperfect, to know that I was human... I was all of those things, but I wanted to be the best I could be.
I glanced back at my reflection and raised my middle finger at it. Of course it mirrored me, but at that moment it was just a mirror image, nothing more. All of me was standing on my side of the glass, and I was aware of every bit of it.
I switched the light off and went to bed.
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