Mirror, Mirror, on the wall...

Dear Mirror at the Fitness Center,

I hate you. I hate your stinking guts. I hate your reflective surface. I hate your bright, unrelenting, all exposing light. I hate you whole stinking family. Actually, that's not true. I met one of your relatives that was really nice. He was very flattering and had very nice things to say and showed me wonderful sights. He made me feel taller and my weight was no issue to him. I don't like the fact that you sent him to the carnival to be used in that house of rejects from your family. You have no heart.

Don't you realize all the hard work I've been doing? Don't you know the sacrifices I have made? Do you not know that I am trying? As I write this, I feel the effects of my labor. My knee hurts, my ankles throb, I have to lay a certain way to keep my back from binding up. Yet there you stand, smug and cold. None of these things matter to you. You have no soul.

Your timing is awful. Just when I felt momentum was shifting my way, you take the wind out of my sails. I ran tonight. I ran a lot. Pam came with me, and she ran, too. The kids watched us and they had a good time. The boys and I shot ball and had fun. I hit some really good shots and was getting to feel like my old self again. Yet there you are, to remind me that these feelings were just delusions of grandeur. There you were to remind me that I am not there. There you were to remind me that I am not the guy I used to be. You reminded me that I screwed up, that I failed, that I let myself go.

There was a point that I would let you win. There was a point in my life where I would just say, "You know what, you're right. I'm a big guy, but that's just me. I come from a family of big guys, so it's no big deal. This is just who I am. This is how God wants me to be."

I found out something about you. You show me the here and now. You show me what I have done to myself. You show me the results of neglect and self hatred and addiction. But there is something you don't show. You don't show hope. You don't show determination. You don't show me where I am going, you show me where I've been. That is your weakness, and that causes me to hate you even more. But know this, I will be seeing you again and again, despite the fact that you are a heartless, soul-less representation of what I've done. Sooner or later, I know that my opinion of you will change. But right now, don't speak to me.

Thanks,
J