I saw the child I was peek out of my face the other day. 

Surprised the hell out of me, of course. I'd turned on the bathroom light to get a glass of water and there he was. 

So wonderful to see him. Hadn't seen him in a while. Thought he looked great - young, happy, confident, grinning, of course, ready to kick the world's ass, with so much brown hair and such a slender face. Boy, was I jealous of that. Don't know why he was in my hotel's bathroom mirror that night. He didn't say anything. He actually was a shy and reticent person who enjoyed making jokes and laughing. Part of the reason he went away is that he later learned that people thought his humor was strange. They didn't get his jokes or they thought he was silly, and silliness is unbecoming in an adult. Being an adult is a serious business.

"I thought you were dead," I said to him, then watched him for a few minutes more. He faded, like a rainbow disappearing as the rains stop and the sky clears. 

But I saw him again the next night, startling me again. Maybe he's always there and I overlook him. Isn't that what often happens? We overlook things that are right under our noses, taking them for granted, forgetting they're there, or  we quit caring enough to look.

Nice of him to stop by and make the effort to be seen and remind me he's there. Need to remember to take time and look for him more often.