I look in the mirror. A reflection of myself, but it isn’t me. This face I don’t recognize; these eyes have no definition. My brain swirls like a snow globe, slishing and sloshing, spilling out from the sides. I take a breath; I scream. Thank God no one is home; family’s love can be so suffocating. I slam my hand on the counter; I’ll feel that in the morning. I look into the mirror. The reflection is red; his eyes are watery. I hate him. There is nothing more I would like than to have him dead. I grab my face, tug slightly. There’s enough give to make me feel alive, and it’s taught enough to remind me I can die. I slide down to the floor. If I hide from him, he can’t see me, and he can’t see me. I feel my heart jumping in my chest, I try to focus on the cabinets; I can barely see. I can’t take it. I grab the cabinet door and rip it off the hinges. I throw the door at the mirror, but it doesn’t break. I now start using the door to hit the walls and throw it one last time. Nothing happens. Now it’s just me and him. I have completely embarrassed myself and all he can do is stand there and watch. I hate him, but he doesn’t hate me. He looks into my eyes like no one else can. I put my forehead next to his. We sit like this for an hour. In this time, I got to know this man. I found his quirks; I understood his flaws. I learned how to live with this man.