An Introspection

There he was, staring straight towards me with his tired eyes. He didn't speak, but I could still hear every word uttered from the depths of his heart. I could feel in me every feeling he had felt, every agony he had endured and every sacrifice he had made. I knew all about the thoughts and emotions that wandered around in the alleys and avenues of his fatigued mind, thoughts that even he would not be able to express coherently. I could read his eyes. I could see through them as if they were transparent.
And who else could read his mind with such clarity but me? We had been together since eternity, we had shared our moments of joy and sorrow, of ecstacy and despair, and we had walked under bright sunshine and torrential downpours. Sometimes I've loved him as much as I could, at times I have hated him with all my heart. Without him as my eternal friend, this long unfinished journey would have never been possible. Whatever I acheived, whoever I became was because of him. He was my only companion at hours of solitude, he was my only inspiration at hours of depression, he was my only source of light under a dark and stormy night sky. He had lead me to the keys when I found all the doors to be locked. And now, here he was, fragile, weary, lonely, having left everything that was dear to him several thousands of miles away, all because of me. Everything he had done was in a bid to make me successful, an effort to make my dreams become reality. As I looked into his tired eyes that still reflected the same old strength of his inner spirit; weak, cold and yet fuming with an unsurmountable energy, I desperately wanted to take him into my arms in one tight embrace, so that I could let him know that I was thankful to him for all his efforts in making the journey wonderful.
I wanted to, but I could not.
There was a mirror between us.