Broken Pieces

Duality

I've always felt as if I have two people occupying the same brain.
They both feel like me.
How can I go from one day loving every breath
then the next consumed in a deep cloud?
How can I lose and gain feelings in a matter of seconds?
How can I love two things at once, even if it's forbidden?
It's as if my body is only a vessel.
A part of me exists with me at all times, she's made a home in the wholeness of my mind.
We are one.
The other part lives in a different dimension ever so patiently waiting for the control switch to go into her hands.
A trigger.
She awakens from a deep sleep and rides out every negative emotion.
Do I like that she takes the reins?
Or do I hate how she reacts?
Floods my brain with nightmares and whispers evil words that break people.
I am all the world sees.
My individual existence on the surface.
So, how are they to know I have another dark version of me lurking around every corner?
Waiting on the attack.
Waiting to take over my body and make me shake uncontrollably.
Does she like hurting me? Hurting us?
Then I come to and for me it was all just a bad dream, a foggy moment in time.
I know I acted irrationally and out of character.
But it never feels like I was the one actually doing it.
Just watching above my body while the madness took over, helpless.
Am I wired this way because the part of me that I identify with is too weak to handle the rocky roads and twisted turns of life.
Always present for the highs, never available for the lows.
What do I do when the darkness doesn't show up on time?
I lay silently and allow a depressive episode to take over.
Numb.
Do I love that she gives me vibrancy when all I can give is dull silence in moments of weakness?
Should I love her the same?
Nobody sees beyond the facade I create.
But if you get close enough you come to learn quite quickly I am not just face value.
Is the answer hidden within that part of me I try to hide?
What would happen if I stopped separating the two sides of me and allowed them to share control over every situation?
Would I finally love myself?
Or would I push people away?
The truth is I'm scared to lose the ones I love.
Scared they will just leave me.
So I make myself exactly what they want.
Then a pure heart and conscious soul comes along and somehow sees straight through me.
Like I am stained glass with scriptures ingrained along my every surface.
They know my every feeling.
They know when I'm hiding something.
They know me more than I know myself.
My person who has traveled through every lifetime with me who finds me and helps me to pick up every piece.
We have danced through hundreds of galaxies and created love, hate, trust, communication, despair within each other.
I know them in the same way they know me.
I can feel every emotion before they know it's coming.
I know the way their brain works and what makes it tick.
We have spent centuries learning one another more than ourselves.
And so we need each other, we balance each other's scales.
We are stamped by one another and bonded for eternity.
Supreme Soulmates.
The missing piece to this minefield of mine.
We may be tied for all of time but we never feel imprisoned by one another.
They water me while I nurture them.
This person sees my duality and loves me all the more for it.
And in turn teaches me how to love it too.
Even if it must be through causing me pain,
because even though they may leave so that I can learn.
They always come back home when they know I'm finally prepared to venture through this reality.
I show them the vastness of emotion and teach them how to express it in a beautiful way.
I open their eyes and bring forth a world of endless possibilities.
How blessed that in this life I have found them so early.
Even though I would wait an eternity for them, they always show up at a delicate time and nurture me back to my true self.
I need them and they need me.
Oh all the ways I could say I love them and feel so connected to their soul.
Still, there just isn't enough words to express it.
The words have not yet been created that would perfectly describe how much they mean to me.
So I show them instead.

On a final note,
true perfection exists in imperfection.