Just An Image

Just An Image

     Have you ever just stared into a mirror and looked at yourself as you truly are? It’s absurd to think that we can see ourselves as others do and maybe it would be dangerous. A true mirror would not just show our physical side, but it would show our mentality, our emotions and how the world sees us as an intricate part of a social system. The danger would come in the form of truth. Truth being the ever-seeing, all-knowing god that pushes us through daily life, yet is always obscured by what we see in the bathroom every morning. How wonderful it would be to see ourselves as we really are and to correct the errors that we find unattractive. One such mirror I held for a short time.

     This fanciful mirror of mine, at first, was no different than the bathroom mirror mounted on the wall. It was smaller yet still I could see my whole face within it’s tiny frame as I held it at arms length. No different was I than Narcissus, who fell in love with his own image not realizing that he was not looking at another person, but just himself. I too shall be kin to Narcissus for I fell in love too. As the days lingered the reflection that I idolized contorted into many directions. So slowly was the change that one day I awoke to a graven form that I wished to abandon. The beauty had faded as if stolen by the love that I had felt. A crippled image I saw. An old, decrepit, hurting image was left with no reminisce of what had been. Barking loudly at the people who entered the tiny frame, this image tormented others as he tormented himself. I soon realized that what had been in the mirror before was not me, but it was only shadow of a person I wanted to be. A shadow of a person I could be. I soon realized the errors of my ways and I saw who I really was. This, I knew, had to change.

     Again the change was a slow one as the contorting and twisted image unravelled itself. I began to see that beautiful person again, but this time it was not the person I only just wanted to be, it was the person I was becoming. The love has found it’s home in my heart and respect is now what I feel for this once maimed image. I’m friends with that man in the mirror. I like him and I know he is not steadfast. The man in the mirror can change and no longer be referred to as - just an image.

Author's Note

Another blast from the 1980's!

Reviews

[Cynthia]

That's a great write, is neat and a nice story!