When I look in the mirror, I see a girl. Her brown locks tussled atop her head frame her round face rather disorderly, contrasting against her pale skin. She dreams of a romantic evening, engulfed in sunlight and basking in joy and laughter, yet her dark eyes remain dull and tired. A hope which is not sought cannot be reached, and a dream that is only dreamt cannot be achieved. So, as my hand glides past the glass, reaching for her reflection, I hesitate. When I look in the mirror, I do not see what I wish to see.