Think of a person you lost and when the curtain drops, it’ll reveal the person.

No one saw the pain in your eyes, the darkness you hid beneath your porcelain mask. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you before you destroyed yourself. You silenced your pain by bottling all your emotions, but the storm brewing inside eventually became too strong. How many times did you glue your mask back before someone began to notice all the cracks? How long did you stare in the mirror, trying to find the person you used to be but to only see the reflection of someone you didn’t even recognize? You wore that mask for so long that you began to forget who you were underneath it.

The moment you chose your grades over your mental health was the moment I should have realized that you were drowning. Beneath the complexion of a “perfect” student who got straight A’s was a teenager who eventually got tired of struggling to stay afloat. After every A you received, you had to sacrifice a bit of yourself. Within a blink of an eye, you completely deteriorated away. No one bothered to dig deeper, they only noticed what they saw right in front of them: the straight-A student with a perfect life.

“I wish I had her life; it’s so perfect.”

How badly did you want to scream at them, tell them that it was fake? How your life wasn’t what it seemed, but instead you drag a prolonged, fake smile across your face. Was their definition of perfect endless sleepless nights and heavy eyelids? Every free hour revolved around studying, replacing spending time with friends with books. Staying up late to study while your friends are staying up late making memories. You’d rather be broken and cover it up with a mask than have someone see who you truly are. Keeping in your composure all day to only cry at your ceiling at night, the only thought coming across your mind is the pain you’ve been hiding.

As the curtain begins to drop, it wasn’t a person who was revealed, but rather an object. A mirror.