Crack in the Mirror

Every day I wake up and look in the mirror. A giant crack runs along its length, separating the hemispheres of my body. I stare at the two halves, wondering what happened. Why do I keep this broken thing around? Yes, I can ignore the imperfection and look beyond it but still, I should just replace it. Right?

Every day I wake up, stare at myself in the mirror, and wonder the same thing. I look at the person hiding beneath the giant fissure and, slowly, a realization dawns on me.

Every day I wake up, look at the person I am, and realize slowly. So very slowly. That I’m turning into the person I’d like to be. I’m becoming just a little bit better. My scars are healing just a little bit more.

One day I woke up and realized. The fracture I saw every morning was not a defect of the mirror. It was the mistakes I couldn’t let go of. It was the pain of my broken heart. It was all the damage I’d ever taken from or inflicted upon a world that’s just as lost as me.

It wasn’t until the damage began to heal and scar over that I realized the one with a crack down the middle, was me.