Weight For It

That awful day your mirror stops telling you what you want to hear

One day a few months back, my mirror just upped and stopped lying to me. Until that point it could be relied on to whisper sweet nothings and cajolery in my ears. 

It was my "friend", you see. 

I'd say, "mirror, mirror above the vanity, do I look good or is it pure insanity?"

And my mirror, silver tongue devil that he was, would say, "Why, Baye, my beloved, need I tell you again, you’re the very picture of masculinity, my friend."

Then one day, just after a shower, I looked down and my eyes, who are as honest as the day is long, brutally so, gagged at what they beheld. 

"Man, you need to lay off the Cheetos and Haagen-Dazs!"

But I tend not to not trust my eyes...they are prone to be overly harsh at times. The mirror, now...the mirror is reliable. 

So, I stood before my trusty looking-glass and asked, "mirror mirror, above the sink, is this blubber as inconspicuous as I think?"

It took its time answering this time around, which put me on guard. 

"What?" I shouted. "Just spit it out!"

"Welllllll..." it sighed, this sheet of glass in which, over the course of my life, I have entrusted so much of my self-confidence and courage. "I have to recommend you listen to your eyes today, my friend. For they're not deceiving you. You've let yourself go!"

When the mirror starts telling you the truth, that's when you know it's way past time to get your shit together. 

My eyes said, "see? Told you!"

"Both of y'all can go to hell," I snapped, and stomped out the bathroom, shaking the whole goddamn house, rattling dishes in the kitchen with every step.

Geezus...