Reunited

      She would tell you that I’m a separate entity born from rage, despair, trauma, and darkness, but the reality is she broke our bond. Not wanting to admit we are one and the same, she pushed me into being something else. A monster she calls the worst part of her, which may be somewhat accurate, but not entirely. I’m not a monster, and I’m not against her.

All I want is to protect her and be with her always. I want to reunite. For that to happen, we need to find middle ground. She wants to believe the world is good. Bad things are people making mistakes and it’s forgivable because they learn and grow. That’s not how people are. I know better. People are selfish. When they do good things, it’s merely the coincidence of their own self interests aligning with other people’s. For the most part, the world is a dark, dreary place filled with people out to rip you apart for their own foolish needs. The only exception is Jacob. Our absolute best friend. The one area we agree. The only one my tiny, black heart melts for. We’re united when he’s around. 

           While she locks me away in a carefully crafted prison deep within her mind, I play in the one area I have control. Dreams, or nightmares as she calls them, are my way to explore a world in which I have full control. I scan through her memories and select ones in which my leadership could have bettered the situation. It’s important she sees the benefit of having me, and realizes we aren’t so different. Ah, here’s a good one.

           Like a film projector, I play the memory in her mind. She’ll recognize the beginning, but I’ve seamlessly woven in my own ending. We’re at a party. Music vibrates the walls and floors. It’s a thumping bass that no one could clearly identify as a song. It’s background noise to thrust their bodies and raise their glasses to. People stand around laughing about silly side conversations. Nothing is happening, but they keep telling each other how much fun this nothingness is. Why do we go to these? I’d always prefer us to be home listening to haunting, melancholy songs of loss and heartbreak, or reading serial killer thriller books. She values being social. Maybe we are too different to connect. Maybe we grew apart. I hate people, but she craves them. Needs something in them that I can’t fathom. Her company is all I need. I accept Jacob. Our rabbit is okay too. Most of the time. Admittedly he is a tad boring, but that fur snuggles nicely against us while watching dramatic tv shows.

 A boy approaches. We know his name, but I refuse to say it. Everything about him is poisonous. He whispers in her ear that he loves her. Panic grabs her breath holding it hostage. Her lungs fill with backed up air and a desperate feeling scratches beneath her skin. A crowd is watching, eager to see what she’ll do. It feels like a spotlight is beaming on us. I tell her to laugh in his face and walk away. He's a moron. She doesn’t know him. Not really. There were some casual talks before, and each one left her on edge. I can feel these things. There’s something not right about him. People always have selfish intentions.

I’ve already moved on to wondering if there are snacks in the kitchen, thinking we are done here. All parties should have food, and the fact this one doesn’t, speaks volumes to me. She doesn’t know what to say. She’s too scared to be mean. What will other people think? Let me handle this. She won’t. Instead decides this is sweet. Though she is too honest to lie, she knows she must do something. She kisses him. The surrounding crowd cheers. I cringe and sulk. Why can’t she see I know what is best for her? This time she will.

           She walks away from him and avoids him the rest of the night. This pleases me. This is what she should do. It’s a memory and we already know what happens. When she leaves to go home, he follows. She nicely says she needs sleep, she’s tired, she has a big day coming up, and they’ll talk tomorrow. He won’t let up. She thought of that stupid kiss as a way out without hurting his feelings, but he saw it as an invitation. I say hurt his feelings. I say who cares about his stupid feelings. This becomes one moment that drives us the furthest apart. When he does what he is about to do, I want us to punch him, kick him, bash him in the head with a lamp, book, alarm clock, or whatever we can get our hands on. I want us to scream down the halls for help, to call the police, to have him tortured somewhere for eternity. I want to destroy him. She does none of this. She cries and he ignores. She freezes and he doesn’t care. She tells herself he was confused and had too much to drink. She blames herself for not being clearer. Instead of acknowledging what an evil jerk he is, she makes this an opportunity for her to be stronger and learn a lesson. The only lesson is to toughen up. To be "mean" and put him in his place. She doesn’t become stronger. I don’t blame her, but I do wish she’d listen.

 She ignored me the whole time it happened, but in this dream, I can show her how satisfying it would have been to worry only about herself. How amazing it feels to abandon social politeness and pursue revenge. We can do anything here. We can hurt him. We can tell him he is an ugly weirdo who needs to stay the fuck away from her. We can stop him. We can push him or spray his eyes with perfume. We can learn to stop seeing the world as such a good place where everyone deserves a chance and admit that most people are clearly dirtbags from the start. Some people need you to tell them so. People are terrible, and we don’t need them. Not everyone deserves forgiveness or a chance to change. She says I’m mean. I’m violent. I’m scary. I love her and hate all the years his destruction has taken from her. From us. I’m sick of all the self-help books on learning to forgive, overcoming trauma, and being positive. That time should have been for us. We are the same. She can’t cut me out.

           When she wakes up, she is furious with me. Dark circles line her tearful eyes. She didn’t want to think about this again. She missed the point completely. I’m discarded into my cage again. My purpose denied yet again.

           While she makes coffee that smells like maple syrup in a warm kitchen, her cell phone rings.

           “Hey, Annie. What’s up?”

           “I just saw something crazy on the news.”

           “What?”

           “You remember Jacob, right?”

           Jacob, our best friend. The one person who makes me question my anti-human stance. I won’t take back what I said about people being selfish, but his selfishness aligns with us well. I adore him. Annie on the other hand. I wish she’d admit Annie isn’t a good friend and being kind isn’t worth suffering through people who aren’t adding anything to your life.

           “Yeah, of course.”

           “He died. Weird, right?”

           It’s like the whole world shifts. The cup of coffee drops, porcelain snaps into a variety of pieces like a torn-up puzzle, and then we fall into the light brown puddle of it. Not much is there, but it’s enough to drown in.

           “What? How? That…that doesn’t make sense.”

           “A shooting. You never think stuff like that’ll happen to someone you know.”

           We’re speechless.

           “Better him than someone else though. He always was kind of an asshole.”

           I want to reach through the phone and strangle her neck. Being cruel to someone who died a day ago, and Annie doesn’t think maybe she’s the asshole here? To my surprise she unlocks the cage.

           “No one deserves that.” I start small testing my power. I use her words, but my assertiveness. She doesn’t pull me back.

           “Yeah, I guess.”

           I want to call her a stupid bitch and hang up the phone, but then I think of us. We’re reuniting again, and I could use this moment to bring us closer. See, everyone is selfish. Even me. My selfishness aligns with her. I hang up the phone. Annie might understand how wrong she was when I do this, but more likely she’ll assume we’re in shock.

           It’s okay to be sad right now. It’s okay to be mad. We loved him. I use my freedom to embrace her in my arms. All I want is for us to be one.

           “The world is a terrible place.”

           I should be happy we agree. We’re getting close again. Yet I don’t want her to hurt, and I can see why it sometimes helps to push me away. It’s never fun when I’m right. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it’s not.

           “How can she say that?”

           She doesn’t know him like we do. She’s selfish. All I want is to protect her. As different as she thinks we are, we’ll always be one and the same. Neither of us could make it so well without the other. We need to work together.