Who would’ve thought that, in a state like mine, I would actually see her. I hadn’t seen her in years, not even when I was at my worst, and now when I’m finally done with nothing left to look forward to, she comes back and changes everything.
It’s weird, you know. Like watching someone eat a combination of food that you would never think of eating in your many years of being awake. You might have had a dream about it, but you’ll never know because it was completely wiped out once you woke up. That’s how it is with us now. Like pasta and jam, or ice cream and pencil shavings. Yes, something like that.
We never really knew each other inside out. Every time she was around, I’d zone out completely. Life would be thriving inside my head and she’d be doing some other such. People often say we’re the same, but I never thought so.
Pasta and jam. They’re both really tasty individually, but they just must not be served in the same plate, you know. Sometimes the sauce in the pasta’s too spicy so jam just might help because it’s sweet. Or it’s just not the right time in the day for jam (although some believe it can be eaten at any time) so you opt for the pasta.
Ice cream and pencil shavings? Haha, I don’t know why myself. It’s just something she’d say…
Ah, that brings out the other truth. We may not know each other too well, but we know what each other would say, or would think about a particular subject. Sometimes, I even feel like I’ve experienced something she has, but in reality it’s never happened to me before.
The pulchritude of this whole melodramatic episode lies in the fact that she has actually decided to emerge when I’ve needed her. During a particularly horrible phase, atleast at twice the magnitude of this, she refused to turn up. She knows I have no family, and that she has none either. But her absence puzzled me and, because of who I am, I didn’t ask her anything the next time I did talk to her. It would’ve just been another firestarter if I had.
Frankly, her presence now was making me feel uneasy. I don’t know why. I felt like I could feel myself slipping away again, zoning out. I faced the mirror. She smiled and waved, then winked. Horror. I knew what would happen now. My time had come.
I lost control of my hands, my back and soon my legs. I did not lose balance though; she had already taken over. I could feel her push me into that box at the back of my mind. Her mind.
I lost all control of the body we shared.
I fought for my right to be able to observe. To watch. To see what she was doing and what was going on in the world.
Her merciless heart wished to block that too, but she knew it was wrong to do so.
Tears began to stream from her eyes. No. From my eyes.
She wiped them away, and I was left to weep in that minuscule room somewhere in between.
All I could feel was my own sorrow and her darkened thoughts, both playing with my mind and killing me as well.
Ice cream and pencil shavings. Pasta and jam.
They should never be served on the same plate.
