Stolen Pages

Page 35// A part of me?

How can you love something more than you love yourself and hate it with the same insane passion? I know it sounds a little stupid but look around my dear reader does anything written in this journal gives you the slightest impression of anything but stupidity?

How could someone be so oblivious to the brain they possess? How could she not see the person she was? The person I had cultivated in my mind?

Her beauty lay in her stupidity? That's probably just what I saw? Is it just the mystery that she is? A complicated puzzle and all I'm trying to do is look for the missing pieces?

I don't really know how this whole love-hate thing works in this case but it does? Somehow it makes sense in the craziest, weirdest way? Probably just to me but hey, let's be a little realistic here, you're a part of me. Just as much as I'm a part of you.

I had to let go of the journal for a few seconds? Was I a part of her? I didn't even know this girl, how could I be a part of her? How could she be a part of me? I looked down at the journal again and a smile found my lips. "How can she not be a part of me?" I whispered under my breath.

Maybe we're all little parts of eachother? Just tiny fragments of eachother that eventually make us whole? Maybe the size of those fragments varies and makes us different?
Maybe I'm 0.000000067% more of you than I am... say your neighbor?

Maybe I am just the product of everyone around me? The perfect recipe to make me? Precise quantities of every single one of them is the only thing that makes me? Get your measurements wrong and we could possibly end up with you instead of me?

I had to stop and reread the words she was feeding me.

And the question that had troubled me ever since this journal had found its way into my hands returned: Was she for real?

So here's where my love hate relationship problem really comes in. Fine I'll admit it's not hate, just mild distaste. But the love bit is accurate!

So the thing I'm talking about, happens to be... Well... You? Not you exactly, but humans. People. Homo sapiens. Yep, those.

I love human beings more than humanly possible! Hell they're a part of me if we even consider my crazy theory? They're so terribly wonderful and somehow almost everything about them is driven by their love for something?

And it's their attachment to those things or people that makes them despicable! It's in they're passion that they're at their best and at their worst?

So I guess it's not my fault that I am so terribly torn by them? Their nature makes them that way?

Maybe you're supposed to love them and hate them?

That's just how it's meant to be?

Oh she's something.

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