2 way mirrors.

I know I should go out. Go to the park. Go to the shops. Go to the gym. Just go out. The books I have been reading for the past 10 years say it. GO OUT. How I can go out when I have become shame. Before I can respond, I have a distraction in my hand, something that will blur the edges of reality but nonetheless will leave me feeling like I need to go out to wash away its poison. I can't go out and I can't tell anyone why I can't go out because the reason is worse than rotting away indoors. Its trivial and all encompassing. I do not go out because the reflection that meets me at the mirror is often afraid. I stand over the sink, gripping it like an anchor, hoping that one tear from whichever eye will clear the lens. Clean it clear, wipe it clean, let me go out.

------

She knows she should go out, to somewhere at least. The sun is out and it would be the ideal day to go out. She knows this because all the pesky self help books advise it. Going out is important because it can help in the long run, but when you don't go out, when you keep avoiding 'it', it becomes you. She probably feels a great deal of shame that she can not go out like everyone else. She has enough alcohol to wash away herself and I wonder if she will drink it and share the reason. As an outsider looking at an average woman, the only thing between her and the door is herself.

It seems trivial and all encompassing until I watch her in front of the mirror, gripping the sink like its holding her back, sobbing, drops falling off the ends of eyelashes, into the corners of the eyes, before running towards the corners of her face. Maybe she thinks it will clean it clear, wipe it clean and let her go out.