One Way Glass

It's been years now that I've been watching them.

We used to be close—practically the same person. What I did, they did. What they did, I did. Our movements, our behaviors, our very existence seemed to move in sync in a way no one else could understand. It was as though I stood before a mirror, watching a parallel version of myself. I laughed, they laughed. I cried, they cried. I jumped, they jumped. But there was no mirror. I was right there, and so were they.

Over the years, through the miles, beyond the memories and the faces, things began to change. What once felt like an inseparable connection, a knot tied from soul to soul, began to loosen. With each passing season, it was as though we drifted further apart, walking in opposite directions without ever realizing how far we had gone.

Days slipped into months, months into years, and somewhere along the way, our paths diverged too far to find their way back to each other. The void left by their absence spread through me like a disease, one that could only be cured by the remedy of their presence.

So I searched.

I searched and searched and searched, but my hands remained empty. I knew they were still out there somewhere, living, breathing, existing beneath the same sky. But would I ever find them again in this lifetime?

Every time I look out a window, it's as though they're right there, unchanged, as if time had never passed. I bang against the glass, desperate to catch their attention, but they can't hear me. They don't even realize I'm gone.

I watch them through a one-way mirror, close enough to see every familiar movement, yet impossibly far away. They go on living, unaware of the distance between us, unaware that something once whole has been broken. And somewhere, on the other side of the glass, they carry on with only an idea of me—a faded impression of someone they once knew, someone they may not even remember looking for.

All I can do is wait for the day they step away from the mirror, look out their own window, and search for a reflection that is no longer there.