I staired at the figure, the 6 inch standing archaic mirror in my room, reflected. She looked more like a stranger, less of a friend. Yet, she held a note of familiarity that shone in our resemblance. 

This lady before me was a figurine of cracked smiles and forced laughters.

Her cheeks were stricken with the dampness of evenings' dew, her soaked pillow could testify to.

Her desire for companionship reeked from her stance but I was no fairy godmother to grant such wish. I could only pray, GOD hears her pleas.

Her face wasn't a flawless beauty but an artful splash of scars and radiance.

For the first time, since I stood there staring, I saw her flash a smile. Though forced, but a smile nevertheless. 

I took my gaze from her to the little jewelry box that sat on the table right next to the mirror.

My thought flew to my many imaginations of how that day will be. The day, someone finally proposed to me. The girl in the mirror shared my thought too. We smiled in self comfort. We weren't even in a relationship to begin with.

For every hour, we spent masking our flaws with foundations and sleek eyebrows, we were getting sick of the wait.

My therapist told me to put more effort into loving myself than in trying to get others to love me. It was no surprise to hear, I had lost my identity countless of times, I gave up trying to hold on to it. The girl in the mirror frowned as if reading my thoughts.

Last night, I came to a realization that being single is a solitary confinement to understanding love in its purest form by loving GOD first and then loving myself. Perhaps, through this, someone will find me loveable.