Fornever and Sometimes

    Side by side we stood worlds apart as sisters, assuming of course that sibling rivalry could have ever reached such heights of cruelty. No, this was not my sister, nor was this my friend. This beautiful angel of destruction had been sent by the gods above to tarnish the once solid foundations of my existence. She, my beloved, my friend, my supposed sister in all but the literal sense, was naught but a dark cloud to wash out the happiness of my days. Not, of course, that I was not just as malignant to her. I was the bane of her existence as well, it's not often you meet the one person in this world created to rip apart your soul and destroy the remains. It's not often you happen to be just as destructive to your destined destroyer either.

    She told me she loved me, and I loved her back. Or so I said. Were we capable of love? Two of a kind and only to one another, with our evil laughs and devastating mind tricks; no one need touch the other physically, not in this game of ours. Maybe we were abusing our powers. Each of us merely a marionette to the other, taking turns at the strings. Side by side, divided by nothing and everything. Love was not a very fitting word, no. No, love was not the word for us. Addiction. Yes, addiction sounded more like it. "I'm addicted to you," honesty, the key to all things good. "I'm addicted to you. I have withdrawals if I don't see your vindictive smile as you pull my strings and make me dance. I'm addicted to you. I cannot sleep at night until I've twisted your every word before you've said it and have stomped your hopes and dreams into the ground. I'm addicted to you." The first step is admitting that you have a problem. But there was no problem here. "I love you," I say turning to my deceitful fixation. "I love you too," she replies, offering her hands and now it is time for the dance.

    Our dance is one of deception, a fast-paced tango to the convoluted piano music heard only in the minds of the venomous and wretched; heard only by us. We dance our dance in the ballroom of life in our red dresses with our black eyes as we tear down the walls and burn away what they were meant to protect. Forever and on, our dance should have ended us long ago, but alas our deceptions have gotten the best of even time! Neverending, never stopping. What are we? Surely, we are not creatures of compassion and love as the once-existent world had meant once to teach me? If only those now long melted away could see me now. They would know. All would know. The world would know what we were and what we are. But the world is no longer here. It is just she and I, only our evil left to keep us dancing until the end of time. Compassion and love will be naught but a memory now, fornever and sometimes.