why are you putting up pieces of paper over your mirror? she asked. because i want to see myself better, she said. well that seems a little ironic, doesn’t it? & over the next few days she rediscovered her love for words. & a piece of paper came down. she wrote “words” on it. in the weeks that followed she found making flowers from fabric scraps brought together scattered pieces inside of her. two pieces of paper came down for that. “creating.” “giving.” then there was the joy she felt from the simple things, like a warm pair of socks, a cup of hot cocoa, seeing snow fall, a hug. each piece that came down, was given a word, signifying its worth. & as the pieces were taken down, one-by-one, she saw a little more of herself. months went by and the friend didn’t understand why there were still strips of paper on the mirror. i still don’t get what you’re doing with this, she said. & i don’t expect you to. besides it doesn’t have to do with you, it’s about me. well, it’s about me when i come over and can’t see myself in your mirror, she said. let’s just say that that mirror in particular isn’t for you to see yourself in, it’s there to help me see myself in. i want to make sure that i know the person staring back at me in the morning; i want the parts i can’t see to match the parts i can. & eventually, when the final piece came down she wrote the word “me” on it because it was the piece she had been trying to find all along. & she put all of her pieces in a box so that if she ever lost herself again, she could easily recall the parts that had helped lead her back before.