I don’t recognize the man looking back at me from the mirror….well, kinda I guess.
We stare at each other as if though we may have bumped into one another here or there.
It’s weird how we have the same features, the same mannerisms, the same eyes.
But he is much older than me. A lot more liver spots…
I can’t be more than 18 years old.
High school was only yesterday after all.
I still remember scoring the winning touchdown in the game against Sunray High and what my English homework is.
I hate English Lit.
He just looks so familiar though…
Then, I remembered…
I had just seen him yesterday.
“What are you gawking at?” said the older man, absently running his hand over his beer gut.
“Oh…nothing” says I, looking down at the sink, kind of embarrassed he noticed that I HAD been staring at him.
I realized that I had been rubbing my flat abs at the same time as he’d been slapping his pink Buddha belly…he was mocking me!
So childish…I thought.
I looked down at the sink on his side of the glass and noticed with a bit of surprise, not really though, that he used the same shaving cream and deodorant as me.
Good taste…thought I.
After a minute or two I did recall seeing him in here before…
I had watched him age over the past few years, much faster than was possible I thought.
I was worried about him?
I had seen him at one time with blonde hair, if my memory serves me correctly, and he hadn’t had so many wrinkles by his eyes and on his forehead, whose widow peak had stretched upward and back a little further than yesterday.
He had a lot more gray hair on his head and chin now than yesterday too.
I could see that at one time in his past that he must have had an active lifestyle. ..Maybe a farm boy back in the day.
His shoulders were still broad, but softer…like he had been smoothed out a little.
His arms had evidently been strong at one time, but they showed scars more distinct now…and his tattoos were fading just a bit.
“You’re freaking me out staring…” he said to my side of the mirror.
“I’m sorry “I replied, chagrinned “You just look so familiar…I’m just trying to place where I know you from.”
He started putting shaving cream on his face at the same time as I did.
This annoyed me, I don’t like being mocked.
I relaxed a little and chastised myself for being overly sensitive after I noticed that he shaved with his left hand and I my right.
But the motions and routine of his shaving were so familiar…
With some alarm I thought “Oh crap…I’m gay!”
After all, I’m standing here in the bathroom across a sink from a naked old, fat guy…shaving.
But, this old guy didn’t turn me on.
I mean, even though we chatted sometimes when we met, he had never come on to me….that way.
He had flexed his muscles or put on a body-building display from his side of the mirror before, but that didn’t make me feel weird.
He HAD however made comments about how handsome I am and how all the women must be crazy about me “Handsome fella like yourself” he had said with a
grin and a wink.
Damn he looks SO familiar! I just can’t seem to place him…
He’s just so much older than me…but….
I stare at him. He stares right back.
This goes on for some time.
I’m not as surprised for some reason when I perceive that he starts talking to me inside my head.
I recognized his voice a lot better this way.
That can’t be right.
He sounds a lot like me…
“We can’t keep meeting like this, people will talk” he said in the mind voice I recognized, grinning at me.
I grinned back. We both got dressed.
I looked at him there on his side of the sink, he in jeans and a trucker shirt…me, likewise attired.
We wiped the mirror off to get a better look at one another.
He was freshly scrubbed, and shaved. I was freshly scrubbed and shaved.
We both nodded at one another approvingly, passing our handsome test.
Good looking devils…
We both kneel down at the sink and began praying for a safe day…asking God to protect the world…to watch over our children.
Good, I thought. He’s a pious man.
We stood back up and gathered our things.
He glanced at me over his shoulder as we both headed to our respective doors and said with a kind voice…
“Hey…you be careful out there Trey…huh”
I opened my door and turned back toward him, he was going out his door.
“You too” I said.
I like this guy…maybe we’ll see each other again.
Maybe tomorrow….
When yesterday is gone.
Oh, this brought tears to my eyes. i know the feeling so well. Blessings!
Thank you ma’am! Just feel old today…. ; )
I understand! 😎
riddle of old and young age solved!! clever and convincing writing!
Thank you heap big much
The trick is not to look in the mirror too often. Oh, but you have to shave. If you avoid mirrors you can convince yourself of anything. My 23 year old self still looks out of my eyes. Unfortunately, my 52 year old self looks into them. Sucks a bit, doesn’t it? ;)x
Can’t help it. I’m narcissistic
;)x
By the way, don’t listen to Scottishmomus, she told me she was about 32, and I have no idea where she gets the 52.
You know, as I keep reading your work, I realize (or realise) that you really have a gift in writing. Your stanza is very good, and clear. Your word usage is varied and appropriate. Your topics are also continued throughout each piece, not lost somewhere, and the person has to go back, looking for what the piece was supposed to be about. In short, your work is not only funny or very touching, it is a pleasure to read, especially for a Word Nazi.
I don’t necessarily want to be the age of high school, was okay for me but not great. I am sticking to 35 for a while now. That was a good age: I felt independent, strong, my knees were okay, I had my cool truck, I had a great horse, and my husky. So, I will keep looking for that woman in the mirror. I guess I am too honest with myself because she is never there. She is in my head though, and when I sit here and think about what I look like, the 35 image comes to mind. One reason my web cam is not turned on: I would not only look my age, but a fish face of my age.
Peace & Love
You are always too kind. How much…?
Dude, my opinions are free, cuz they are true. Now if you want me to lie, well you will have to pay for my conscience, the actual lie, and then my ethical dilemma counseling thereafter. Way more expensive for me to lie for you. LOL
Dang… You must be a professional… LOL!
I am The Professional.
I’ve come across the series of photographs the image you posted came from. It was surreal.
You did a great job with it 🙂
Sometimes I wonder instead of going back to the past where our older selves advice our younger selves I wonder..what would our younger selves say to our older selves…..
You did it both in this one post!
You’re too nice to me