I am much better looking downstairs.
The bathroom down there has no natural lighting, and that...combined with God's grace in giving me this failing eyesight, ... softens the lines and blemish of age that has become me.
I am 20 years younger down there....when gazing into that mirror downstairs.
The forgiving mirror....
Eventually, though, ....I must leave the house after that last reassuring glance.
With the proper distractions, I can carry the image to the end of the day.
There are times when I must look at myself without the aid of a mirrors reflection.
When what I must see ....is who I am inside.
And I find that in order to make it through the day....I still must find a forgiving mirror.....attempting to rationalize those things inside that are old and ugly, scarred and blemished.
Permanent parts of who I have become through years of silent sin and stifled conscience.....
.....of wounded love and hopeless romanticism....
.....of dreams unrealized .
Reality is harsh ....but sometimes I find it important to use the bathroom upstairs...
You make me smile in recognition, in reflection, of my self.
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