The mirror was always an enemy. Reflecting what seemed to the bad rather than the good. It was almost a routine he would do. He would just stand there for hours at a time picking himself apart. He'd get so lost standing there that he would never notice
me watching.
I'd watch to know why he would do it. Today was no different. He stood there, watching himself.
I remember when I once asked him what he was doing there. His answer, "I'm looking for something." I understand what that means but I don't understand why he was looking. What he was looking at, in my eyes, is what he's looking for. I mean, everything
he is clear perfection. If only he could see that. Maybe I could show him that.
His face changed to a sadness that broke me. So I stood and made my way to him. I didn't want to snap him out of his trance worried about what might happen, so instead, I hugged him from behind. I felt him jump but I kept a grip strong enough to keep
him in place. Not that he really wanted to try to move.
"I hope you realize," I looked to the mirror to find his eyes. "What you're looking for had already found." I found them looking to the ground.
"Where?"
"You're looking right at it."
"What?"
"You don't see it but you should know that you are beautiful."
"...how?" I grabbed his hand, holding it tightly like my life depended on it.
"I could point out everything that could define you as beautiful. For example, your eyes shimmer like the ocean at sunset, your hands are like gems showing all your hard work...I could point out everything that defines you as beautiful." His eyes moved
to meet mine. "But to put it simply, everything you are makes you beautiful."
"I..." He seemed to be trying to find words.
"Don't tell me that your hair is slightly too long or that you're too short." I felt him grip my hand. "None of that matters because you're still beautiful to me. You always will be."
"I..." His grip grew tighter. "I'm sorry..."
"Why?"
"Because...I didn't know." He started to cry. I only tightened my grip on him.
"It's fine. Just know, that no matter what you will always be beautiful." He let go of my hand. I loosened my grip as he turned to face me. "I'll say it everyday if I have to."
He smiled, that soon fading as he started spew out apologies.
"I'm sorry.."
"Francis." He looked up. "There's no need to say sorry." He stayed staring at me for a moment before hugging me tightly.
"Thank you, Alfred." He whispered. He broke down letting everything he had built up out. I stood there looking straight at him. He looked up at one point. "Why are you staring?" I smiled and wiped a few tears off his face.
"Searching for something bad about you but I haven't found anything."