The mirror

The mirror started life with me flawless, gleaming, beautiful. I loved what looked back at me - smiles, hope, confidence.

One day, a crack appeared at a corner with no warning, with no reason. By the time I noticed it, it was spreading in every directions like an intricate spider web being spun, certainly and unstoppably.

In time, I saw a crackly me whenever I looked in the mirror. I lived with the cracks, lived under the illusion that cracks are merely annoying.

Until one day, many years later, I realised I was living under the delusion that the mirror could only contain a finite amount of cracks. By now, the mirror was positively splintering and I could no longer recognise myself in the mirror.

And I knew the day had finally come to do what I should have done a long time ago. With a heavy heart, and with as much care as I could to not cause further damage, I removed the mirror from my life.

Maybe I would live without a mirror for a very long time, maybe even for the rest of my life. Or maybe, one day, I would find a another mirror I liked enough to bring home with me.

Whatever the maybe's, I only knew that day that I could not go on looking at myself as a hopelessly shattered version of me...

p.s. In time, I did find a used mirror that is flawless. And I enjoy seeing what looks back at me once again.