Harry the Dreamer

The narrow room was crowded with noisy people: “Don’t worry, child!” “Next time will be better!” “Don’t give up, okay?” “It’s just a fall, baby, it’s normal!” “Life is like a rollercoaster. It’s made of rises and falls!”
So many reassurances, so much support!
But Harry couldn’t appreciate it.
He sat on a chair in the middle of the room while his parents, relatives, friends, acquaintances and whoever cared about him gravitated round him giving him a blink, a squeeze, a kiss or just a word of consolation. But he didn’t care: all he could feel was the overwhelming bitter taste of failure. His own failure. And tears were burning at the corner of his eyes while a knot of disappointment clenched his throat.
He needed air, he needed to see the sky.
So Harry threw his head back and looked up. But there wasn’t the sky above his head and neither the ceiling: just an enormous and circular mirror dominating the room.
An Harry with his same green eyes, his same curly hair and his same tattoos which peeked out from under the edge of his T-shirt, was looking down at him, expressionless. A bright and clear reflection, perfect in every detail.
There was just a difference between it and the reality: no crowd.
No one wandering around him.
No one touching him.
No one comforting him.
He was completely alone in that mirror.
You see? The mirror is right. Even if there are dozens of people around me now, I’m alone here. I’m alone in my sorrow, disappointment, anger. I’m alone in front of my failure.
And I feel so lonely ...

Some time later, Harry was sitting again under the same mirror and that time he was both anxious and thrilled: in a few hours he would have had the occasion to make his dream come true. It was such a priceless and unrepeatable occasion that made him weak to his knees. And he could not miss such an opportunity, not dare to fail one more time. Stress and expectation were about to kill him!
But luckily Harry wasn’t waiting alone in that narrow room. His family, friends and pals were there supporting him: “Go boy! You can do it!” “I’m sure you’ll succeed, child!” “Chill out and play hard to get!” “You’ll outshine everybody else!” “Go out there and make me proud, ‘kay?” “I’ll always love you, whatever the outcome will be!”
So many encouragements, so much love!
And Harry really appreciated it. But while the crowd gravitated round him, he could not resist the curiosity and casually threw his head back and looked up at the mirror.
An identical Harry met his gaze, but apart from his same rosy lips, his same cheeky look and his same wild curls, nothing in that reflection was the way it should have been. Something was missing: the crowd.
He was alone.
He almost fell from the chair for the astonishment.
Where are mum, dad and my friends? Where are all those people that just now, in the real life, are supporting me? How could I be still alone? I don’t feel lonely!
Harry was confused: he had been alone in his sorrow because no one could have fully understood him, no one could have stood next to him in front of his failure, no one could have faced it in his place.
But what about now? I’m alone again in that reflection. It’s because I’m alone also when facing difficulties. Such a miserable and lonely condition!

Harry sat on that chair one more time, and that time a big smile illuminated his face. He did it: he achieved what he aimed at and even more. He was simply overjoyed and felt his stomach light while an irrepressible laughter arose in his throat.
“Wonderful! You’ve been amazing!” “I knew it, lad, you’re the best!” “So proud of you, baby!” “You can do anything! You’re unbelievable!” “Love you!”
The usual crowd was still gravitating round him.
So many praises, so much appreciation!
And Harry was so happy and grateful.
But he couldn’t stop himself throwing back his head for the third time and looking up at the well-known mirror. The same old Harry was looking down at him with his same dimples standing tall on either side of his smile, his same slender fingers and his same delicate lineaments almost childlike.
And once again there was no one behind him and not even around him.
No crowd.
He was alone. He couldn’t see anyone but himself in that reflection, but it wasn’t really that surprising. He had finally figured it out.
See? I’m alone this time too but it doesn’t mean I’m lonely: the mirror reflects only my figure because I am the main character of my own story. All others are supporting characters, but I am the author of my failure and success, I am the one who have to overcome my own hurdles, I am the director of my own life.
I am my own weapon and with it I can hold in my hands my destiny.
I am in charge of my own life.

Notes