She saw the devil in the mirror.

An innocent glance at her own reflection turned into the realization of the person she had been. Her heart struggled with the contemplation of “what if?” She stared a bit longer at the woman looking back at her. Slowly losing focus on herself she sharpened her eyes on the man lying in the bed right behind her. Asleep peacefully and unaware of the dilemma in his woman’s heart. She picked up her phone and browsed the messages from her paramour. The distinction between the man in her hand and the one in her bed was sharp. Yet, the feeling in her heart between the two was abstract. A concept hard to grasp and a predicament unsure she’d regret. Tingling all over, she smiled at the affection burning in her fingers. She looked back into the reflection.

She saw the devil in the mirror.

Her lover spent his time and effort begging for affection.

Begging for the relationship she had with the man in her bed. She would grant him the confidence in his own pursuit through her own method of romance. Leading him close and letting him out. She held him in the palm of her hand and she knew… He’d never escape as long as she held him there. Her heart torn between the comfort of warm sheets and the passion of the love in her grip. A shuffle in the bed behind, pulled her from her waking dream and she hid her phone. She gave him a kiss and pretended he meant the world. Where lips met, her heart wandered. Where her heart connected, her lips would never touch. The embrace they shared was disrupted by an over the shoulder glance into the glass behind.

She saw the devil in the mirror.

She spent her day in a state of constant anxiety. She saw her lover in passings and captured stares. The smell of his cologne was enough to drop her heart into her stomach and his laugh was as infectious as his smile. Between hidden grins and butterflies, a reminder of what she could lose stared back at her through a window in her palm. Writing to the man at home she’d grant him the confidence that his pursuit was over and his prize was still won. All the while, praying her flame would take her away from the pain of discontent. She hummed a melody to herself as she tucked her phone away and it was continued aloud by the man of her dreams. Another example, just gloating impossibility to the perfection she couldn’t possibly deserve. Lost, a single direction to the course she should take was all she asked for. The unknown just as terrifying, as the possibility of the latter. She knew safety and surety awaited her at home, granted at the expense of contentment and passion. Ardor for her lover, granted for uncertainty and doubt. Her day went on and she returned home. Home, where her heart wouldn’t skip and the butterflies turned to stone until a buzz in her pocket would awaken them. A flame glistened in her eye as she hung on the words burned by the fire into her heart. Every word he spoke was another testament to the Love he felt and she so desperately desired. She left the man in the sheets and retreated to the bathroom, anxious to return the sentiment. She responded in kind and unknowingly pushed herself closer to the edge. A cliff where the bottom is beyond sight, and only the spoken assurance of a net to stop her fall. Backwards she withdrew, to the safety in her sheets. One last vow, made to her somber lover to one day jump. She took another look into the eyes of the woman before her as she walked away.

She saw the devil in the mirror.