Mirrors of Memories

Light, shining bright from the honey colored eyes of a young child. Vibrancy and clarity radiating like heat off an old metal slide at the play ground. Youth, resilience, all are swiped away in the blink of an eye. That twinkle in my eyes, the soft ringing of my joyous laughter fade into the darkness. Nothing but faint, taunting whispers at the back of my mind remain. Those memories that dance and prance on the tip of my tongue haunt me. I stare at myself in the mirror on my bathroom wall, my auburn hair now streaked with grey. My once soft, clear skin flecked with spots and wrinkled like a canvas of an old painting. I do not recognize the person in the mirror, and it frightens me. My precious memories, thoughts of loved ones passed slip and dangle just out of reach. Loneliness caving in, sadness clawing its way towards me. The stares of the ones who love me, the heartbreak in their eyes as I pull away from their touch. They are strangers to me, but I am their everything. Guilt, burden, depression fill me because I know they love me in a way I cant love them. Once apon a different time, a time not riddled with blanks and fuzzy lines. A time, when I could remember everything. I stare at the stranger in the mirror of memories, and that stranger is me.