I looked upon the shattered pieces sprawled out on the floor, And in the mess, I only saw my reflection—yours was there no more.
Slowly smoldering out from the shards was the unfulfilled potential I had always seen, for you, for me, for us.
But it was just a delusion covered over with a bright and hopeful sheen.
In the shadows, I chose to hide from the truth, knowing that you weren’t really all that you seemed.
And in the end, you served as my mirror—showing me what I truly needed. And what I needed was always—and only—ever me.
A soft melody began to play as I reassembled piece by piece the broken mirror. The dust settled and the haze lifted and the words of the tune rang out clear:
“It’s not you; it’s me. It’s not you; it’s me. It’s not you; it’s me.”
And this time, I really know for sure, that I’m the one that I’ve been looking for.
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