Age. Does it come to one defining moment when you realize you have gotten older? Or does it sneak up on you like a whimper in the dark of night?
I look in the mirror. I see my face, yet it looks back at me with signs of wear. Would all the magic in the world be able to cover my imperfections? Would I want it to?
I walk slower. Two wrecks later I suppose that is to be expected. My brain still thinks but does it skip a beat like my heart when I get overwhelmed?
If I could turn back time would I? What age would I want to be? 25? No, 30. Right before my son was born. I would desire to look like that again, instead of what I see staring back at me in the mirror.
Ah to be young, and look young once more, yet knowing all that I know now.
Has anyone noticed people treat them differently? They come to check on you. They drive you to and fro. They make elderly considerations towards you. Making sure you have dinner. Checking on you in times of cold weather as if you're not going to put enough clothes on, not turn on the heat, and freeze or something. It's the little signs I'm seeing from them that make me feel old.
In my heart, I'm still young, and what I once thought of as an ordinary face, is now beautiful to my eyes.
Shall I become as Narcissus? No, for having looked in the mirror I see my face staring back at me, and suddenly all my imperfections are what make me who I am today, and I shall remain forever young on the inside.