My Reflection

The music is buzzing louder than ever. The party is in full swing. I can hear the clinking of glasses and the loud conversations as I frantically check my phone in the bathroom stall, trying to focus on the news story being covered. I search through my purse, looking for my earphones so I can tune into the news story and subsequent debate that will follow.

I can hear footsteps all around me, opening every stall. And then I hear my name.

“Louisa. We’re waiting for you. Are you okay?” My friend Stacy asks from outside the stall.

“Just give me a minute.” I reply. My hands quickly tap on Blusky and I immediately post my opinion on the Farmer’s riot saying “Insane how the government refuses to acknowledge their existence. We cannot let their voices be silenced.” I post it and step out of the stall to face a worried looking Stacy.

If only my friends could understand how important politics is to me. I was fifteen when we got our first female president. Everyone in school said I looked like her. I started to mirror her. I bought the same coat as her. Spoke like her. Had black coffee and a sandwich for breakfast just like her. I majored in law because that’s what she studied.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The only thing similar between me and the former president is the skin color. She went on to ditch her values and everything she said she stood for.

My confidence wavered since then. Stacy just raises her eyebrows at my reflection as she catches me lost in my thoughts. I reapply my lipstick, pretending to have a greater purpose for arriving in the bathroom when the party was the loudest than just to read the news and comment on social media like I’m some savior.

“There’s a guy I wanted you to meet.” Stacy says out of the blue. I just shake my head. The last time I ever dated was in college and all we could talk about was seminars of political commentators in the campus. It was the most boring relationship in my life.

“No thanks.” I tell Stacy, shooting her a smile to ease her disappointment. I know she’s just worried about my social life. But if only she understood how active my life is in the political sphere.

“He likes Rusty Wall.” She says cheerfully.

Rusty Wall is a political leader that I’m a huge fan of. His values and concepts can save the entire world. To think someone feels the same way immediately intrigues me.

“This is the first and last time I’ll entertain a blind date.” I tell Stacy as we both head out of the bathroom looking for my supposed date.

***

Stacy introduces me to Sherwin. A man in his early 30s who is swaying back and forth at the bar and greets us like he’s been anticipating my arrival since forever.

Stacy leaves us alone and within minutes the conversation goes from awkward first greetings to talking about social issues in a matter of minutes.

I take another sip of wine as I tell him all the reasons why I cannot stand Stuart Schroeder’s leadership. “Cowardly and fake” I say as I gulp down the last bit of wine which makes me feel quite tipsy. I haven’t enjoyed a single party or drink in my life. But tonight feels inviting; comforting even.

“Not to mention that he’s so quiet about the farmer riots.” He quips shaking his head, finishing the rest of his drink as well.

I look at him happily. “You know, my entire life I’ve met people that were always close to getting it. But something was always off. You and I are very alike. Let’s head out.” I say feeling optimistic about my date.

We go out to my car and start to make out. I haven’t kissed anyone in the last seven years. Nothing feels as satisfying as feeling like you’re getting close to ‘the one’.

We make a plan to visit his house and continue our conversation. I quickly text Stacy about how good she did with setting me up with him. “He exceeds all my expectations in a man.” I tell her and send it.

***

His home is cute. Pictures of him as a child on his birthdays, then with his parents, and then of his graduation day. I comment on his always looking good. His physical attributes only now catch my attention as the whole night I spent obsessing over our similar thinking.

We spend some more time on his couch watching some daily news on TV before he switches to the famous speech by Rusty Wall. He goes to make some popcorn as I settle in comfortably, holding the blanket close to me. I can’t help but smile to myself that I can find someone who is exactly like me.

My eyes land on his phone next to me. My hands gently brush over it as I look over my shoulder to make sure that he’s not coming back yet. I just want to see for once. What if we follow the exact same people?

I go through his Bluesky app and my eyes go wide. He follows me. I go through his likes and feel my soul leave my body. He likes all my posts and only my posts. And he’s been liking my posts that are from five years ago.

He comes back with the popcorn and I gasp as his phone falls out my hand. He looks at his phone and looks back at me with embarrassment.

“I think you’re awesome Louisa. I’ve been following you for a very long time. As you can see.” He says pointing at his phone still on the ground.

“You realize it’s weird though, right?” I ask him, grabbing my purse close to me as I stand up so I could run to the door if I the need arises.

“Weird? Passion is weird now? You’re passionate about Rusty, aren’t you?” He tells me.

“Not romantically!” I reply back yelling. I start to hyperventilate at the thought of being in a person’s house who seems to not understand his behavior is alarming despite having the intelligence to read all of Rusty’s books.

I start to walk towards the door when Sherwin tries to stop me. “So you deluding yourself into thinking you could be the president is fine. But the moment I think I can even be with you is a problem?” He asks.

I stop in my tracks and look back. His face looks furious and the bowl of popcorn in his hand is steadily placed. Something feels so eerie to see the calmness in his body knowing the anger that is developing in him following my rejection.

I choose to not speak as there’s nothing rational that can convince this man. I simply open the door and run to my car as he stands staring, chewing a mouthful of popcorn.

I just drive away. The radio is playing an old interview of the president after she stepped out of politics. She shares how she forgot how to be a person. And for the first time, I understand the meaning of her words. I park my car outside my house and call Stacy, informing her about the awful experience I just had.

Apparently, Sherwin befriended her at a bar a few weeks ago. Since he spoke about politics, she presumed he would be my perfect match. While I’m obsessed with politics, he was obsessed with me.

“I should’ve been more diligent Lou. I’m sorry.” She says.

A couple of encouraging words later, I ask her the question that has been weighing heavy in my head all night.

“Stacy, who am I besides my beliefs?” I ask her.

She goes silent on the other side. I lower my head and close my eyes, feeling defeated and lost.

Then she starts to speak, “You are smart, knowledgeable and have a strong inclination to better the world.”

I burst into tears hearing her words. I realize I got so stuck on the details and facts that I forgot why I liked what I liked in the first place.

After thanking Stacy I walk into my house and open my phone. My social media is bustling with new information. Some scandal, a new revelation and a controversial statement. I no longer feel the itch to comment on it, or read it.

I close my phone and look at myself in the mirror and for the first time in a long time, my reflection reminds me of the former president. But this time, with the same realizations that she had.