Wanderer’s Musings

“I think I’m a psychopath.”

My voice echoed out into a lonely room, the sound of my own words resounding back into my ear. I look towards the side to see the reaction of my companion, to which she just looks blankly back at my face and replies.

“What brought about this conclusion?”

“I mean, think about it.” It all makes sense if you’ve really thought about it.

“I have thought about it, and figured out that it’s easier for the both of us for you to explain it.” She places down a book she was reading onto the side; well, she wasn’t actually reading it. She mostly just holds the book while thinking as her eyes dart across the words. If I were to ask her about anything in the book, she wouldn’t be able to tell me a single thing; well I’m the same in that regard.

“I mean, I have a hard time empathizing, I tend to make others feel uncomfortable on purpose…” the sound of her yawning interrupted my crafted argument. Although I was never really good at crafting in the first place, mindless mining is enjoyable though.

“Are you done yet?”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Cause you didn’t have an argument to finish, and you know it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I reply on reflex, but I know that her response is going to hurt more than I really want it to at the moment. 

“The reason you have a hard time empathizing is because you aren’t around anyone long enough to empathize with them, you claim to make them uncomfortable on purpose because you’ve forgotten how to act normally, so you resort to the only act you know, which puts people off. Let’s say you might actually be a psychopath, shouldn’t you get diagnosed to make sure you’re not just kidding with yourself? You haven’t even gotten officially tested have you.”

“I took an online test.” Rolling her eyes, she glares into mine as I feel myself shirking back from her intimidation as I avert my eyes.

“And you probably answered the questions in a way that aligned with what you wanted to be.” Turning away from me, I feel the pressure being lifted from my shoulders as she sighs. “I’m not help, I’m not a therapist. All I’m doing is telling you things you already know.”

“Self discovery is important.”

“And your point is?” I didn’t really have a point, and she knew that. Pinching the bridge of her nose, I knew she felt done with this conversation, but she could never be done with this conversation. She never had the choice to ever be done.

“Self discovery is only meaningful if it leads to self improvement, whether that’s improving yourself, or improving your environment to better fort yourself. This is the 5th time you’ve diagnosed yourself with a mental illness, and yet you’ve gotten help 0 times.” 

“I talk to you.”

“And I’m not help.” Repeating herself again, I couldn’t say anything back. But I had to say something back, or else her existence wouldn’t have any meaning. “Last time it was schizophrenia, the time before that was bipolar disorder; you need to stop reading about these mental illnesses online and actually get yourself checked.”

“What if I’m just making it up.”

“That’s why I said to get help, so you can know for sure.”

“What will other people think?”

“What’s there to fear about someone not being mentally ill?”

“Wouldn’t they get worried about me thinking I’m mentally ill in the first place?”

“Can’t you just not tell them you’re going.”

“We both know I can’t lie.”

“Regretfully so.” She turns towards the window full of sky as I continue to stare towards her. Her blank focused expression, I can never read it; her black eyes reflect the night sky as I turn my face away.

“So what do you suppose we do now?”

“Man proposes, God disposes.”

“Are you saying you’re a god?”

“I never said anything like that. I just quite like the painting. Although in your eyes, I guess I am some sort of idol; after all, the only thing you do here now is listen to my words.” Nodding my head, she goes back to reading the book she had previously placed by her side: leaving me alone in the silence. I glance towards the closed door, and turn away. But my short moment of hesitation was noticed by her. “Are you thinking of leaving?”

“I don’t have the right to leave.”

“Who decided that?”

“No one.”

“You decided.”

“I’m no one.”

“If you’re no one, I’m a figment of no one's imagination, and that’s a horrible existence to be.”

“Yeah...I guess it would be.” Pausing for a moment, I changed the topic again. “Do you ever get lonely?”

“I’m in this room with you all the time.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“If you think I’m lonely, I am; if you think I’m not lonely, I’m not.”

“What a vague answer.”

“It’s the truth, I’m not sure what other answer you’d expect from something you’ve imagined.”

“Don’t call yourself a thing, at least call yourself a person.”

“Is it because you gave me her face? What a weird thing to get hung up about.” I couldn’t deny that statement, I just avert my eyes in thought as she continues to sit there, always listening.

“Should I apologize?”

“I’m not the one who needs to answer that question. All I can do is listen.”

“You answered my questions before.”

“Because you already knew the answer beforehand. Now it’s your choice to decide.”

“What if she has long since moved past it?”

“Then it’ll help you move past.”

“And if she hasn’t?”

“It’ll help the both of you move past together.”

“And if I screw up?”

“It’s just another addition to the mistakes you two have made together.”

“And the reason I haven’t yet?”

“Who knows? Maybe you’re scared of moving past it, maybe you never wanted to move past it in the first place. I can’t answer something you don’t know yourself.” Mulling over those words, I form my resolve as I lift myself from my postpone, and walk towards the door. “I hope I don’t see you again.” I hear as I’m about to leave.

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

“A girl can dream can’t she?” I don’t respond as I gently open the door. The feeling of the doorknob turning was surprisingly easier than I had thought it would be. Well last time it felt like the door was jammed completely, anything is an improvement from that.

“Take care Clair.”

“...what a surprisingly thought out name. Aimaina and Id were quite cringey, so I’m glad you’ve come up with a normal name.”

“Had to get one last jab in huh.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, the next time you come in here, I’ll keep the door open.” I smile at her response as I step out of the doorway.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”