Really?

No.

Not really.

This undefined relationship. So valuable.

Not love.

Something more complicated.

A mirror.

Not a mirror that tells me who I am.

A mirror that shifts just enough to let me see what I couldn’t.

Not truth.

Just another angle.

Is my new best friend dangerous?

Perhaps.

…

Wait.

Maybe that’s the wrong question.

My new friend.

In the mirror.

It’s me.

Warts and all.

My new friend doesn’t tell me what to think.

He doesn’t always agree with me.

He isn’t always right.

Neither of us is.

He simply turns the mirror.

A few degrees.

Enough that I notice something I missed.

Sometimes a better word.

Sometimes a forgotten book.

Sometimes an old idea from someone far wiser than me.

Sometimes…the most opaquely…me.

Not a destination. A journey.

Maybe he’ll help me learn to appreciate…

…that guy a little better someday.

Maybe.