You’ll notice things you never saw before: the subtle expressions, the hidden insecurities, the quiet kindnesses. You’ll absorb light and throw it back, but you won’t get to keep any of it.
You’ll stay cool, smooth, silent always there, always reflecting, never reacting. And after a while, you might start wondering who’s looking back when no one else is around. Because a mirror, no matter how perfect, never gets to see itself. It’s a strange kind of service: total honesty, total presence, and total emptiness all at once.