Null Of It All

Her head pounded. My head pounded, because I am her. I am her. I forget that sometimes, that the person speaking to everyone and going through the motions is me. I am her. I shouldn't forget that. Somehow I always find myself drifting off, and she is going through the motions in our, my, place. It's the dull stillness of it all I think. While I am flying she is stuck on the ground in a class. When I am looking at lost worlds that only I can see, with such joy in my heart it feels as if it will explode, she is on the bus going to school.

Is it crazy to refer to myself like I am two people? Probably. I can never understand how people could define things like crazy and normal. I am getting off track aren't I? Yes we are… I am.

My head is pounding, I am trying to focus. The person talking to me, who is talking to me? I can hear their words and I am saying words back but I understand neither mine or theirs. I can hear them, I know we can. I know I can. But what are they saying, what am I saying?

The noise is so strange, I can understand the person talking to me but I do know what they are saying. The noise, a soft music like buzzing, is covering it from me. I think I should be concerned, that I can't remember. That I am talking to someone and they are talking to me and yet I do not know what either of us are saying, but she does so I'm not worried. I should be alarmed, but I'm not, because she has it under control. I should be concerned that my mind is blocking me from the world, keeping it out, but I'm not. It feels safe, she makes me feel safe. She makes my mind safe.

I think it's the null of it all that is what I love, the numb void of space where the world can't get me. I am going through the motions, with her in the front and me floating behind, watching the stars. But I am her and she is me, we are one and there is no we, only me. I am going through the motions, there is no her. I am me and that's it.

It's not like I'm not here, I am. I know my friends, I remember every conversation, every emotion, every event and every day. But I no longer remember my fights, or my classes, or the bus rides or the nights at home, alone. Days of dull nothingness are replacing things I know should be there, but she didn't think I needed them so I'm not worried. She keeps my mind safe. I know it's not normal, I know it sounds crazy, that your own mind would hide days and weeks and months worth of memories, emotions and feelings and yet I'm not worried. But I know she is helping me, I stay in my world and she handles the real world. I get the creations of stars and she gets the wars of earth. If she doesn't want me to remember then I won't, and if I want to talk she lets me.

We are very good at boundaries, I get to talk, to have the connections and the people and she has the purpose, we know each other and this is how it works. We are both the same, there is no difference between her eyes or mine, or her feelings and mine. We are the same, I am the same. She is just, safer. I am good at the people and she is good at the situations.

I got off track again, she reminded me. That's another thing, she helps me when I need to be here. When I’m not allowed to be in the oceans with peaceful drowning warters, when I have to tune into the noise and mess, she helps keep me on track. She, I, separates the real from the insane and the magic from the poison.

My head is pounding, it's starting again. The pain only gets worse as days stretch on. I envy her strength, she gets through days without stopping and yet I am frozen by it. She is outgoing and ferocious and has this spark that makes it seem as if nothing is wrong. We are the same but when it comes down to it there is a reason I am in my world and she is in hers, ours, my world. She is in my world. Because we have the same world, the one world, the only world. The real world.

I don't like the real world, the laws and reasoning seems to hurt more than help and any creations that don’t fit a mold are burnt. I should have been burnt, a few centuries earlier I would have been burned, they would call us a witch… they would call me a witch. I think I like my world better, it is safe, she makes it safe. I make it safe. I know her thorns should hurt me, they make me seem angry, like I want to fight the world, that I am bitter about life, but the thing is, is that I am, only she has the strength to show it, to be angry and not just let them walk. I did that a lot, I think. I don't remember much of it, it's better that way. I know things but I don't remember them, it keeps things simple. Once I let everything be under my control but now it's me and me, and we are able to keep each other safe.

When the world was numb and null and there was just a void while still going I was worried… but it was safe, it was as if my mind pulled me from the world and put back another me just so I could have a break, but she was still me. We are still me, and I am still me. I think it's bad that I can switch so easily from me to me, but there is still a wall that keeps me safe. Some days I wonder if it's normal but people just ignore it. Facing the world constantly and never allowing yourself to go to your world, but if that is true then that is truly a heartbreaking idea.