The boy who couldn't hold his breath underwater

swapping characters

To Jéssica
Happy Birthday
Jeg elsker deg

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Even's always been indecisive.

It didn't used to a problem. Sure, he was a little energetic, but children are suppose to be.
It wasn't properly noted until his teens that something was actually wrong with him. He was becoming increasingly more temperamental, reckless and even withdrawn; which usually wasn't like him. He was lively, gesticulating wildly, and absorbed in the world around him.

In short, he become too much to handle. A film reel ready to burn, edges already smokey.

He was diagnosed at 15. It wasn't a surprise, but it certainly stunned his parents for while, worry clearly etched on their faces, and caution visible in their movements.  It made uncomfortable knots form in his stomach. He didn't like the doctor's at the best of times, although especially not since that visit .

But see, he can't help constantly changing. He's often wistfully pulled into something different each week or so, jumping from idea to idea. Seemingly only spurred on by some extravagant wanderlust in his mind.

He shifts into other phases of himself, that's the closest parallel. A futile alignment. He tries to see it as himself evolving in way, not another symptom of oncoming mania.

It's normal for him though. He was born like this. It's who he is. But he's not sure if he wants to be like this, because he guesses it's probably normal for someone with his condition too. 

And that.

He doesn't like to think too much on that line of thought.
Doesn't want to ask. Maybe he's scared to. Because, even he can have trouble separating himself from his disorder. Because maybe, deep down, he just can't.

It's too intertwined, and tangled in him. Too apart of his core being. His essence.

He's like the moon, he supposes. He's always waxing and waning. Never quite the same.

But he's never not the moon, even if he's different, you know?
He's always this body, with these searching hands and long unsettled limbs. This mind that's sick. But he's never quite the same Even Bech Næsheim.

Even's an amalgamation of fleeting interests and film projects.
He's just jumbled ideas, which he can never string together to make enough sense. Get the perfect shot.
He's made up of different treatments, and medications, and episodes.

It's a sad reality that he can't even manage to stay at the same school, or keep any of the same friends for long. Mikael a definite goner after everything. You can't escape what you are, and madness is a stickler. But maybe Hartvig Nissen will be good for him. A change from Elvebakken, where judge filled stares follow in his wake. A trickle of hope bollosmes in his gut.

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Even outgrows clothes, and trends quickly too. Another bad habit of his.

He can't ever been seen as just one thing, or stay put for too long. He jiggles his leg under tables and taps his fingers carelessly on desks, and can't decided on what type of person he should present to the world.

People aren't one dimensional after all, and he's can't ever stay still on any given day. His style is an art form, as are many things. And it's his first day at Nissen. He needs to make an impression.

After his growth spurt at 16, he awkwardly tried to fit into himself again. But he could never quite feel the same, because he wasn't. Transformed yet again, and it wasn't just the height.