Poetry? My Own Thoughts

I recognize you.

I wonder who that person standing in front of me is.
They give off a sense of distinct familiarity but I just can't seem to recognize them. I wave at them. They wave back. I call out to them. They call back.
I sense despair in their voice, an old sadness, and a tad of helplessness. They seem to be staring at me. As if they know all my deepest hopes and feelings. I feel like I recognize them, perhaps an old friend? I smile at them, and for a second they smile back. Then, their smile falters and their face of helplessness returns.  My smile falters and the feeling of being helpless before them engulfs me. I think they're lost but... so am I. They seem to be searching for the same thing I am. The true me. I touch my face, thinking. They touch their face too, as if thinking, almost at the exact same time. I reach out to them but a seemingly invisible wall stops me. I panic and start knocking on this wall, but all they do is stare back with a blank expression. They won't help me. I'm helpless. A shadow of sadness passes over their face as they looked down, sighing. They turn around and walk back. Why won't they help me, as I stand here pounding on this wall? As they fade out of sight into the mist, I realize. I recognize them. I see them every day, and their face is constantly present in my mind, worrying about how it looks. I see them every day, staring back at me from the bathroom mirror.