In my little soul, there was a man, who liked to sweep the floors of my heart and tell me stories of a world that used to be. It apparently used to be much better, but also much worse, and it all became so complicated, that he barely knew whether he was happy or sad that he was invading my body and rotting it from inside.
He had a name, that was similar to mine, and he also had the same shape of me, the same feelings, the same thoughts, the same contour, so the only thing that we differed on was that he was not alive, and I was for the moment.
With those things in mind, whenever I went out and shared a drink with my imaginary friends, or sat on my couch to watch nothing and do nothing, or just read the back descriptions of store products, he was following me, nodding along, and then doing things are out of order. I would try to vocalize an idea, and he would say it first, I would try to laugh and then he would snort, I would try to make a lie, but through his twisted machinations of my tongue, I ended up telling the truth. It was hard to control him, but even harder to make him stay.
“Do you want me here? If you don’t, just say it and I will go,” he said through me, through my fake mouth.
“Stay, as long as you need. And when you get what you need, you can be free at last, of my awful presence,” I answered and he laughed through me, and then nodded, and then fell asleep, which meant, I fainted and hit my head on a wall.
For most of one of my lives, I knew that someone else was watching under me, and so it was, and so it turned out that the life I had cultivated was simply a vessel through which somebody else can exist without experiencing any of the pain, emotional and physical, that hardened my eyes. Was it fair for me or was it fair to him? Though I knew him very well, I also did not like him, but it was also the same as saying I did not like myself, which was true, but it was also very annoying.
“Where are we going? What are we going to do?” he asked through me, breathing through my fake nose.
“You know where and you know what, and you know why, stop asking, and just do what you must,” I said, defiantly, though, due to his influence, it sounded more like I was whining and about to cry.
“I am not understanding, for my soul is too full of life and love to do anything but see, marvel at what goes on around you.”
“You are going to burst through me, one of these days, and that will be the day,” I said trying to get a headache under control. “That will be the day when you experience all of the negatives that you have so far avoided, you will gasp your first gulp of contaminated air, feel the touch of someone who doesn’t love you, acknowledge the embarrassment of who you really are through the staring eyes of others, and ultimately, come home and find yourself empty, lonely, and desperate. Can you hold on? Will you? What is stronger: your pride or your safety?”
For the first time, he did not answer and instead fell asleep, just as I fainted, again, and again, through a dark oblivion perhaps, and from there I hoped, I wouldn’t need to wake up, but I was also scared, and happy, and wishing to have him by my side, just to see and feel what was going to happen to us.