Sometimes when I pass by a reflective surface of some sort and turn my head to look, I am taken aback by what peers back at me.
It is not me in there looking out, that is for certain. I am a vibrant, happy, fun loving sister/aunt/daughter/friend/girlfriend who has a full and enjoyable life and loves to do all kinds of stuff at all different times of the day with the people I love; but that person in the mirror -- that person who could not possibly be me -- has quite obviously had the life sucked out of them by some terrible turn of events.
The person in the mirror is pale and sickly, void of hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. They are alien -- listless and lacking facial definition. I look at them in shock, bewildered at how they got in the mirror, but they wear only an expression of desperate and hopeless blankness, seemingly unable to register anything else, any other emotion, any emotion at all. Perhaps it is just I who cannot read the emotion on their alien face, though, so I concentrate harder.
I look into their eyes, their dull, tired, shadowed eyes, and I look for the life that I know is there, somewhere -- it has to be -- but I can't see it... why can't I see it?
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