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Mirror My Love by Larry Hodges Like so many others who
have gazed upon my face, I could not take my eyes off those brilliant green
eyes as they stared back from the mirror over the bathroom sink. My wedding was tomorrow,
and yet hour after hour I gazed. Sometimes I'd break for food and other tasks,
but always I'd return to again stare into those wondrous orbs of mine. I
ignored the people knocking on the door and yelling about wedding preparations.
Was there anything of greater splendor than me? "Yes, there is,"
a deep voice said. My eyes went wide in the
mirror. The voice seemed to come from all directions. "Who said that?"
I asked, painfully pulling my eyes away from the mirror to look about. No one
else was in the room. "Does it matter?" "Yes, it
matters!" I said. "This is my bathroom, you pervert! If you want to
see me, then get in line tomorrow for my wedding." "But is it really a
wedding?" "Of course it is!
I'll have the finest wedding dress, which proves I'm getting married. Now leave
or I'll scream." "A wedding should be
between two people who love each other." "Of course!" I
exclaimed. "When I look at him, I have nothing but love." "When you look at
him, you look at your reflection in his eyes." "I do not!"
I screamed, stunned that the voice knew. "You should not marry
until you learn to love another." "Who are you?"
"You wish to see me?" "Yes!" "Look into the
mirror. You will see what you wish to see." I looked at the mirror,
but all I saw was myself . . . those dreamy eyes that made men wobble and
women's eyes glisten with hate. Ahhhhhh. . . "You are a thing of
beauty." "Yes I am." It's
not bragging if it's true. "Then look upon
yourself until you learn to love another." I quickly forgot my
visitor as I continued gazing into my eyes. I could do it forever, but the rest
of my face also deserved looking time. I tried looking down, to observe that
perfect nose . . . but could not! I was completely paralyzed. "What did you
do?" I said in a throaty whisper, but there was no answer. This would be a blessing
for anyone else, to look into my beautiful eyes from just inches away when most
must do so from afar. And yet, there was so much more of me to see! The grandeur wore off
quickly. Dad once said that beauty is only beauty in contrast to that which is
not beauty. I thought him silly, but as I sat there, hour after hour, day after
day, I realized he was right. Perpetual beauty, even mine, becomes average when
that's all there is. Where were Mom and Dad?
Why didn't they rescue me? And so I sat, without
hunger or thirst, my eyes never drying up, as my heavenly situation turned to
hell. For if looking into my eyes and finding the sight only average is not
hell, what is? I remembered the voice's
words: "Then look upon yourself until you learn to love another." But
there were no others that I loved. My presumptive husband? I only wanted his
money. Did I love his money? No--just the things it bought for me. Did I love
those things? No; I just loved having them, and that's not loving another. Who could I love? I didn't
have an answer. And then, one day as I
stared at my eyes in the mirror, I realized it wasn't my eyes I stared at. It
was the reflection of those eyes. Which came from the
mirror. And what a beautiful
mirror! Dad bought it for me eight years ago when I was twelve, the greatest
gift I'd ever received. Why hadn't I appreciated it? Its front was clean and
clear as water from the freshest snow, and smelled faintly of Windex. I could
imagine light bouncing off it as it reflected my beauty so that I may enjoy it
as others did. If that's not love, what is? How could I not reciprocate? I had
never felt this way before. "Okay, okay, you
win." The deep voice was back. "How long have I been
stuck here?" I asked. "Far too long, and
yet not long enough. Two years for you, zero time for others." "Two years!" I
exclaimed. "Two years and still
counting." "Who are you?" I
asked. I was no longer paralyzed. I stretched my neck, then gazed back at the
mirror and my beautiful reflection. "I am that little
voice in one's head that tries to talk sense into those with no sense. I rarely
succeed." The voice sighed. "Then why do you do
it?" But the voice never spoke again. I had stared at my eyes in
that wondrous mirror over the bathroom sink for two years; it was time for a
change. I carried the mirror to my room. Where were Mom and Dad? Maybe I should
check on them later. The mirror fit nicely over
my desk. I sat and beheld it. Later
someone pounded on my locked door, but I ignored it and continued to gaze upon
my true love. 2011-10-11 06:55:35 Kind of strange. I liked it, tho. Read more stories by this author      Did you enjoy this story? Show your appreciation by tipping the author!
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