Relationships are the mirrors in which we see ourselves. The love we receive is how we view our worth. Every gentle touch, soft kiss, and murmured sweet everything gives clarity to the image we see reflected back upon us. But when the words that are said to us are mean and cruel, the image becomes streaked and stained, marring how clearly we can see our true and beautiful selves. When words and touches become unkind and painful, our image shatters, sometimes breaking into pieces too small to see as ever holding another reflection.
The mirror you hold to my soul shows more of me than I am willing to embrace. The image is so sharp that it glares back every perfection and flaw within me until I have to look away.
And I force myself to look again.
You are not holding the mirror; you are my reflection. Through the looking glass is where my soul is an extension of your own. Pulling me through the pane, you hold me close, two reflections playing as one in the madness of Wonderland. The queen reaches for your hand but you grasp more tightly to mine; you’d rather run through the chessboard with me.
Thank you for giving me a mirror clear enough to see beyond my own reflection.