I look at her and she looks back at me. Sometimes she will smile or laugh, maybe make a goofy face and play with her hair; other times she frowns. She judges me closely, disappointed at the flaws and imperfections that glare straight back at her. 

"Not good enough!" she yells.

"Why do you even bother?" she scoffs.

"It's never going to change!" she screams. 

I look at her and she looks back at me. Her frown is gone, but her face is still solemn. She is no longer meticulously analyzing me, but instead she slowly backs away. The details smudge and smear. What had been so loud and conspicuous before begin to melt away into the expanse of the entire picture. 

I see her and she sees me. Her face softens to reveal content, relief and reassurance. She finally understands and accepts me for who I am. 

I turn away from my reflection and she turns away from me. As I leave the girl in the mirror, I take a little of her with me.