The man in the mirror
I look at my reflection, at the man staring back at me. The man I have become.
He is a stranger. No recognition there. I look away, pained. How did it come to this?
An impulse to break the mirror registers. Briefly. The truth, the sad truth is there is no way I am going to make it go away.
My fingers clasp tighter around the cold steel in my hand. I suppress emotion. A tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek. A lump forms in my throat.
One more look in the mirror, as though it will grant me absolution for what I’m about to do. What needs to be done. It doesn’t. A part of me realizes that its partly my fault. That I am partly to blame.
If I’d been more understanding, less demanding… If. So many if’s float back and forth, but this is not the time. The time for that is long gone.
Actions will have to do the talking. I will not be held accountable for my actions. Read more
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