OUTSIDE IS INSIDE & VICE VERSA 

It’s night and I’m trying to sleep but I’ve had too much coffee today and I’m freezing. I’d go to sleep in my coat, honestly, but I’m too lazy to get up and grab it. So my eyes decide to roam around my room until they snag on my sweater, in all of its neon orange glory, hanging out of my dresser having thrown it there in a desperate effort to simply go to sleep. And the nightlight at the end of my bed hums lightly in harmony with the tick tick ticking of my clock. Everything is how it should be, except my window—I’ve left the blinds up because I’m hoping the natural light in the morning will wake me at a reasonable hour tomorrow morning. It’s “tomorrow,” now though, so how can I really expect to go to bed at a reasonable hour if I can’t go to sleep at a reasonable hour.
But, honestly, what’s a reasonable hour? 
Do you know? Can you tell me?
I glance up at the open window and I stop because there, there is my reflection. Usually confined to fluorescent bathroom mirrors and the occasional reflective picture frame, she finds a new home, here. Same eyes, same hair, same me, but she only exists right now because the nightlight gives her life, gives her warmth. Her features are harsh, her mouth shrouded in shadows but I have the distinct feeling she’s smiling. It’s in the eyes; everything’s always in the eyes
Then it looks like she’s about to say something and so I lean forward to hear and to listen but then my night light goes out and she’s gone.
Dammit. 
I jump up out of bed, shivering, and go to plug the night light back in. Nothing. The bulb’s out. 
I climb back into bed, back under the covers, and look out at the window again. My chin is resting on my pillow and my arms are crossed in front and my eyes are searching and searching but Reflection is gone. All I see is the small movements of that tree by my mailbox as the wind pushes past it, through it, off to somewhere else and my car standing proud, unwavering, in my driveway. 
I’m aware there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this but it’s past 2am and all reason is jumbled and murky. So then I have the sudden urge to close the blinds, but I don’t. Because I need to wake up at a reasonable hour. 
And then, I imagine, so must she.
So I pull my hands away and turn onto my side and close my eyes and I see nothing but that doesn’t mean there is nothing.
I can’t see her, but she’s still there. She can’t see me but I’m still there. I can’t see you, but you’re still there.
You can’t see me, but I’m still here.
I promise.