The window of an old cafe. Shiny after being cleaned of snow that morning. A bright red sign and bold black letters, proudly announced its place on the quiet corner. There was a display full of frosted sugar cookies. Christmas trees, candles, red ornaments, and snowballs. Spirited and festive, as it was every year.

Yet something was off.

I saw something more in the window. Not the cushioned backdrop or the reflection of the street. Brick building by brick building, colored lights by colored lights. Nothing unfamiliar.

“Carolina?” I asked, turning to face the window. My fingers touched the spotless glass as I stared inside.

Her gorgeous green eyes once sparkling with joy now faded. An old worn jacket and sweatpants. No spirit in her posture. This wasn’t the girl I remembered with her fashionable dresses and festive hats. Her decorated makeup and sparkles.

She looked lifeless.

I touched the tip of my nose

“Oh Carolina, who did this to you?”

Surely this wasn’t how I was supposed to live the rest of my life.

Alone for the holidays.

Not recognizing my own reflection.

I sighed, my shoulders sinking deeper. The pristine light of the mirror seemed to dim with my presence.

I used my sleeve to wipe the fog off the window, as if the motion would change my reflection.

Still me.

The Carolina who gave up on Christmas.

And herself.