The Mirrors Reflection

I walked into the room, the smell of stale coffee and old books hitting me like a wave. The chairs were arranged in a circle, a setup that always made me feel like I was back in kindergarten, waiting for story time. But this was no story time. This was an AA meeting, and I was here because my wife insisted. She said I had a problem, but I knew better. I was just here to humor her.

People started trickling in, each one looking more miserable than the last. They all had that same haunted look in their eyes, like they were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. I took a seat and tried to blend in, hoping no one would notice me. I didn’t belong here. I could quit drinking anytime I wanted. I just didn’t want to.

The meeting started with the usual introductions. “Hi, I’m John, and I’m an alcoholic.” The chorus of “Hi, John” that followed was almost robotic. I rolled my eyes, but no one seemed to notice. They were too wrapped up in their own misery.

Then it was my turn. “Hi, I’m Mike,” I said, keeping it short. I wasn’t about to label myself an alcoholic. That was their problem, not mine.

The stories began, each one more tragic than the last. Lost jobs, broken families, near-death experiences. I listened with half an ear, my mind wandering to the bar down the street. I could almost taste the cold beer, feel the burn of the whiskey.

But then something strange happened. As I listened to the stories, I started to see a pattern. These people, they were just like me. They had jobs, families, lives that seemed normal on the outside. But inside, they were falling apart. Just like me.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. No, I wasn’t like them. I had it under control. I could stop anytime I wanted. I just didn’t want to.

The meeting ended, and I stood up to leave. As I walked out the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For a moment, I saw the same haunted look in my eyes that I had seen in everyone else. But I quickly brushed it off. I wasn’t like them. I didn’t have a problem.

As I walked down the street, I felt a strange sense of unease. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as in control as I thought. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, I needed a drink.