For a long time, I had avoided looking in the mirror. The past few years had been a relentless struggle, and I couldn't bear to confront another disappointment in myself. The mirror would reveal the harsh truth - my aging appearance, my unhappiness, and the toll my disease had taken on me. Ever since I had learned about my illness, I had shunned mirrors as if they held the power to confirm my worst fears.
I vividly remember a time just three years ago when I was brimming with life, dreams, and hope for the future. All of that had disappeared, and I didn't want to face what remained of me. The doctors assured me that physically, I was progressing well, but my mental health was deteriorating. I couldn’t wait any longer. I refused to live my life in constant fear of death. It felt as though I was already dead, so why not disappear from the world entirely?
Today marked the day I had chosen to bid farewell to life. It would be the last day of my life, so I decided to celebrate. After three years of avoidance, I mustered the courage to look into a mirror, which took some searching in my closet to find. Before I looked at myself in the mirror, I swallowed enough pills to end my life. I took a luxurious bath and wore the most beautiful dress I could find, the same dress I had worn when I first met the love of my life, whom I had pushed away after learning about my illness. I had only one friend left, my roommate Devin. Despite my attempts to drive him away, he had made a pact with me - he wouldn't inquire about my health, but he would always be there when I needed him. We continued to live together, and I was always ready for the inevitable. No matter how promising the treatments seemed, my 'normal' would never be the same as everyone else's. We both were aware of this fact.
As the pills took effect, I felt the world blur around me. I was ready to look in the mirror for the first time in three years. As I looked in the mirror, I told myself, "I'm okay. Everything will be normal, just as they've been saying. Because today, I will die. Everything will be better than ever. Calm down, my vulnerable self." My fear suppressed my soft inner voice, causing me to nervously shout as soon as I saw my reflection in the mirror. “Oh lord!” I exclaimed. I looked terrible- ragged and exhausted. As I gazed at my appearance, I felt a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach, and suddenly, my old, full-of-life self appeared in the mirror while my real ugly reflection was trying to escape. I cried out in frustration, asking where it was going. I blamed my reflection for making me miserable for years. I asked for an explanation, but it just ran away. Three years ago, it had taken control of my life. But now it was my turn. It was not going to have a place to return to. “Go find another person to reflect your horror, my dear runaway reflection. Because when you return, I won’t be here,” I said to myself as I looked at my reflection, running away. After it left, I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror once more. My beautiful self, that never aged and never looked so profoundly sad, was looking back at me. "Hello Lara, I missed you," I said, my voice filled with longing.
Everything became blurry. Suddenly, the door opened, and someone rushed towards me, shouting. Everything grew hazy. The next thing I remembered was waking up in a hospital room. Devin, my faithful friend, was there as always. I muttered, "Mirror." Devin didn't understand at first, but he eventually brought me a mirror. I couldn't find the words to explain what I had just experienced at home. So, I remained silent. I looked at the mirror, unsure of what to expect to see. Here I was... My old, beautiful self. It was impossible. I knew I didn't look like that anymore. To make sense of it, I asked Devin to look in the mirror with me. My true reflection was restored as soon as Devin’s reflection appeared in the mirror. There I was, looking all chaotic and unhappy. My runaway reflection couldn’t go so far after all.
We arrived home exhausted, and all I wanted was to crawl into my bed and sleep for days. But I was aware that Devin was watching me closely. I finally made it to my bed and shut my eyes. Suddenly, I sensed a strong presence near me. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw my runaway reflection staring back at me like a ghost. I was terrified. I started screaming, and just as quickly, Devin rushed into my room. As I turned to look at him, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. It was still my old, beautiful reflection. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. Even though I knew deep down that I no longer looked like my old appearance, seeing myself as beautiful and healthy again in the mirror somehow made me feel better. I was too exhausted to contemplate the strange experiences I had gone through since my suicidal attempt. I needed to rest first. We spent the night together with Devin. My reflection never reappeared that night.
After that day, I began to test myself in the mirror. When I looked at my reflection alone, I still saw the old version of myself. That's why I always kept Devin in the frame with me. The fake image of mine in the mirror made me feel like I never got sick. It also encouraged me to take care of myself. No matter how surreal it may sound, it was only when another person was in the frame with me that my runaway reflection became apparent. I still saw myself as my old, beautiful self when I was alone.
A few days later, while going to work on the subway, I caught my reflection in the window and saw it again. My runaway reflection… It was like a ghost chasing me wherever I went. I felt startled but tried to stay calm without screaming. After one stop, I saw it walking towards me, and although it made me uncomfortable when it sat beside me, I remained still. It whispered, "I am not you." When I turned to look at it, it had vanished again. I spent the entire day pondering over what it meant by saying it was not me. Perhaps it was not trying to scare me but rather trying to convey a message. I had a strong sense that all of these incidents held a deeper meaning.
After a long day at work, I arrived home and asked Devin to help me care for myself. He was surprised but happy to support me by bringing all my makeup supplies. I had thought I had thrown them away, but apparently, Devin had more faith in me than I had in myself. Although I didn't mean to, I gave him credit for trying to make me feel better. I had a heart-to-heart conversation with him about my desire to feel better about myself and find happiness again. He then removed my makeup and poured me a glass of wine. We had a great conversation, reminiscing about old times, and it felt amazing. The next day, we enjoyed breakfast together and went to our favorite coffee shop. It had been a while since I had felt truly alive.
Every other day, I would stand in front of the mirror with Devin to see my true reflection. Although Devin didn't understand why I wanted him in the frame, I told him he gave me courage. As I began to prioritize my self-care, I began to observe that my reflection changed on a daily basis. Although my appearance still didn't resemble the way it used to, I no longer saw my runaway reflection in the mirror. I often wondered where that image had disappeared to. Whenever I caught a glimpse of myself in a store window or on the subway, I felt intrigued by something I could never quite put my finger on. Although I never saw it again, I could sense its presence occasionally. Perhaps it was a reminder for me to never forget what it felt like to look like that and to never give up on life. At that moment, my feelings were my reality, and nothing else mattered, even if some could call me crazy. But I trusted my senses and intuition to discern what was real and what was an illusion.
A month later, I no longer needed Devin to look in the mirror with me. My reflection and I are now one again. Thank you, my runaway reflection, for saving my life and never giving up on me.
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