Mirrored conversations

We speak the same language, we eat the same meals, we sleep the same naps, and we dream the same dreams. Some people tell me that you and I are extremely alike, and I don’t know how that makes me feel. I can definitely see the commonalities on a surface level, yet in reality, we are completely different. When you shake my hand, you feel my skin touching yours. You see my eyes looking right into yours. Our breathing is almost aligned; we breathe in and out of the same air. In that moment, you think we are almost comparable and relatable, yet that is where I see the biggest differentiator.

Whereas you consistently try to become equal to me, I just try to make sure I am no different from my true self. I do not know which one is better. On most days, I do not even know if we are really trying to be the same person. You know what the problem is. There is nothing common between us that isn’t common between any two humans. It is simply the world that wants to observe some kind of conflict. That’s the truth I tell the mirror every morning. The mirror looks back at me as if I am crazy.

The mirror based their entire existence on the reflection of what I did, yet I always ran from it. In the end, it doesn’t seem like we are running the same race at all; it only seems like we are running the same marathon. I should probably stop talking to the mirror.